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ELEMENTS OF LOGIC: 



ON THE BASIS OF LECTURES 



BY WILLIAM BARRO]N^ F.R.S.E. 

PEOFESSOR OF BELLES-LETTRES A^'D LOGIC IN THE UNIVERSITY OF 
ST. ANDREWS. 



LARGE SUPPLEMElsTTARY ADDITIONS, 

CHIEFLY FROM WATTS, ABEECROMBIE, BEOWN, "WHATELY, MILLS, 
AND THOMSON. 



EDITED AND COMPILED /*'' 

BY REV. JAMES R. BOYD, 

AUTHOR OF ELEMENTS OF RHETOEIC, EDITOR OF KAMEs' CRITICISM, 
AND OF ENGLT=- ^^^^^^ijlfl NOTES, ETC. 

*;.¥.i 




NEW YORK: 

A. S. BARNES & CO., 51 & 63 JOHN-STREET. 

1856. 



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8 



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THE UtHAEY 
or CONGREM 

WAailI»GT©« 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S56, 

By a. S. BAENES ife CO., 

In the CIerk"s Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 

District of New York. 



b* 



,08 



RICHARD C. TAL7DNTINE, 
STF.KEOTYPEK AND E LECTROT Y PIST, 

\~ Dutch streer,, corner of Fulton, 
NEW Y O K K . 



GEORGE "W. ■WOOD. Printer, 
Ko. 2 Dutcii- street. 



INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS, 



The Lectures whicli constitute the basis of tlie present work 
were read by tbe learned author, during twenty-five sessions, in 
the University of St. Andrews, and may consequently be pre- 
sumed to have been elaborated with great care, and to be wor- 
thy of the attentive study of all who desire to become ac- 
quainted with the science and the art of Reasoning. 

As the Lectures are few and concise, there seemed to be 
occasion, in fitting them the better for a text-book in schools, or 
even for private perusal, to supplement them occasionally, from 
the works of distinguished writers on Logic, on points where, 
for practical utility, a more full discussion of the subject is 
needed ; and also to introduce various important topics upon 
which Professor Barron had neglected to ofter observations. 
As stated in the title-page, the works to which the compiler 
has had recourse for this purpose, are, chiefly, those of Dr. 
Isaac Watts, Dr. Abercrombie, Archbishop Whately, Dr. Thom- 
as Brown, John Stuart Mills, and William Thomson. The con- 
tributions gained from these standard sources will be found at 
least equal in value, and nearly also in amount, to the Lec- 
tures. It is hoped, therefore, that a work has thus been con- 
structed which will be found to possess some advantages over 
the text-books now most generally used. One peculiar feature 
of it, is the omission of a great deal of perplexing and useless 
matter relating to the Syllogism ; and yet it presents a full dis- 
cussion of the value and functions of that ancient form of rea- 



4 INTRODUCTOKT OESERYATIONS. 

soning. The opinions and views of distinguished authors on 
this interesting branch of the subject are largely quoted, that 
the student may be led to a discovery of the true state of the 
case. He is not, moreover, here subjected to the irksome task 
of learning a huge mass of intricate and unprofitable details 
about syllogistic Moods and Figures, such as are found in most 
treatises on the science of Logic. 

The author of " The Philosophy of Rhetoric," Dr. George 
Campbell, not a mean reasoner, nor an indifferent critic in mat- 
ters of this kind, in that celebrated work observes : " It is long 
since I was convinced, by what Mr. Locke hath said on the 
subject, that the syllogistic art, with its figures and moods, 
serves more to display the ingenuity of the inventor, and to 
exercise the address and fluency of the learner, than to assist 
the diligent inquirer in his researches after truth. The method 
of proving by syllogism appears, even on a superficial review, 
both unnatural and prolix. The rules laid down for distin- 
guishing the conclusive from the inconclusive forms of argu- 
ment, the true syllogism from the various kinds of sophism, 
are at once cumbersome to the memory and unnecessary in 
practice. No person, one may venture to pronounce, will ever 
be made a reasoner who stands in need of them. In a word, 
the whole bears the manifest indications of an artful and osten- 
tatious parade of learning, calculated for giving the appearance 
of great profundity to what in fact is very shallow. Such, I 
acknowledge, have been, of a long time, my sentiments on the 
subject. On a nearer inspection, I cannot say I have found 
reason to alter them, though I think I have seen a little further 
into the nature of the disputative science, and consequently into 
the grounds of its futility." 

After a series of observations made in \andication of these 
criticisms upon what he calls the scholastic art of disputation, 
Dr. Campbell concludes in the following terms : " When all 
erudition consisted more in an acquaintance with words, and 



INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. O 

address in using tliem, than in the knowledge of things, dex- 
terity in this exercitation conferred as much lustre on the 
scholar as agility in the tilts and tournaments added glory to 
the knight. In proportion as the attention of mankind has 
been drawn off to the study of ISTature, the honors of this con- 
tentious art have faded, and it is now almost forgotten. There 
is no reason to wish its revival, as eloquence seems to have 
been very little benefited by it, and philosophy still less. Nay, 
there is but too good reason to affirm that there are two evils, 
at least, which it has gendered. These are, first, an itch of dis- 
puting on every subject, however incontrovertible ; the other, 
a sort of philosophic pride, which will not permit us to think 
that we believe any thing, even a self-evident principle, without 
a previous reason or argument. In order to gratify this passion, 
we invariably recur to words, and are at immense pains to lose 
ourselves in clouds of our own raising. We imagine w^e are 
advancing and making wonderful progress, while the mist of 
words in which we have involved our intellect hinders us from 
discerning that we are moving in a circle all the time." — 
[Philosophy/ of Rhetoric^ p. 92.) 

Of the ancient Logic (which Archbishop Whately and others 
have endeavored to revive), the same views were entertained 
substantially by Dr. Thomas Reid and Dr. Adam Smith, Pro- 
fessors of Moral Philosophy in the University of Glasgow, and 
by Professor Dugald Stewart, of the University of Edinburgh. 
One of the pupils of Dr. Adam Smith, and who was ranked 
among his most valued friends during life, makes the following 
significant statement : " In the Professorship of Logic, to which 
Mr. Smith was appointed on his first introduction into the 
University of Glasgow, he soon saw the necessity of departing 
widely from the plan that had been followed by his predeces- 
sors, and of directing the attention of his pupils to studies of a 
more interesting and useful nature than the logic and meta- 
physics of the schools. Accordingly, after exhibiting a gen- 



6 INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. 

eral view of the powers of the mind, and explaining so much 
of the ancient logic as was requisite to gratify curiosity with 
respect to an artificial method of reasoning, which had once 
occupied the universal attention of the learned, he dedicated 
all the rest of his time to the delivery of a system of rhet- 
oric and belles-lettres." — {^Dugald Stewarfs Account of 
the Life and Writings of Adam SmAth, Works, vol. vii. 
pp. 8, 9.) 

The same view of the subject was expressed by Lord Karnes, 
in his " Progress of Reason :" — " Aristotle," he observes, " has 
done hurt to the reasoning faculty, by drawing it out of its 
natural course into devious paths. His artificial mode of rea- 
soning is no less superficial than intricate. I say superficial ; 
for in none of his logical works is a single truth attempted to be 
proved by syllogism that requires a proof. The propositions he un- 
dertakes to prove by syllogism, are all of them self-evident. Take, 
for instance, the following proposition : That man has a power 
of self-motion. To prove this, he assumes the following axiom, 
upon which, indeed, every one of his syllogisms is founded, viz. : 
That whatever is true of a number of particulars, holds true 
of every one separately ; which is thus expressed in logical 
terms : Whatever is true of the genus, holds true of every spe- 
cies. Founding upon that axiom, he reasons thus : ' All ani- 
mals have a power of self-motion : man is an animal : ergo, 
man has a power of self-motion.' ]S[ow, if all animals have a 
power of self-motion, it requires no argument to prove that 
man, an animal, has that power ; and, therefore, what he gives 
as a conclusion, or a consequence, is not really so : it is not 
inferred from the fundamental proposition, but is included in it. 
At the same time, the self-motive power of man is more clearly 
ascertained by experience than that of any other animal ; and, 
in attempting to prove man to be a self-motive animal, is it not 
absurd to found the argument on a proposition less certain than 
that undertaken to be demonstrated I What is here observed. 



mTEODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. 7 

will be found applicable to the bulk, if not tlie whole, of his 
syllogisms." 

The views of Dr. Thomas Brown, of the University of Edin 
burgh, correspond substantially with those above given, and 
will be found in the latter part of this volume. These are fol- 
lowed by a more profound discussion of the subject by Mr. 
Mills, who in part sustains, and in part dissents from, the 
statements and reasonings both of the writers just referred to 
and of our author. Yet on the whole, perhaps, he has present- 
ed the most satisfactory explanation of the exact value and lim- 
ited functions of the famous Syllogistic Process. Other por- 
tions, also, of this work have been greatly enriched by contribu- 
tions derived from the same author. 

The method of treating the general subject, which Professor 
Barron has in the following Lectures pursued, seems to be phil- 
osophical, and well adapted to secure all the most valuable ends 
of Logic, in a large and popular setise of that term. He first 
discusses every topic introductory to the art of reasoning. He 
explains the manner in which we feceive Ideas, the sources 
from which they are derived, and the methods we must employ 
to render them clear, adequate, and conclusive. He then ex- 
plains the nature of the propositions into which they may be 
formed, and the judgments which we must pass on these prop- 
ositions. He delineates the prejudices which pervert our judg- 
ments, and lays down some rules which we must follow, in 
order to form them with accuracy and justness. He then treats 
of Reasoning, or the method of ascertaining propositions by 
means of intermediate ideas, or proofs, whether demonstrative 
or probable. He explains the different methods, in common 
use, of distributing or arranging ideas in different processes of 
reasoning. The principal kinds of Sophistry, or False Reason- 
ing, are subsequently brought to view (which, however, are 
more fully considered in the pages we have drawn from Dr. 
Abercrombie). The author concludes with an exposition of the 



8 INIUODUCTOEY OBSEKVATIONS. 

nature of the Syllogistic Process, and of its great want of utili- 
ty, for all the legitimate purposes of reasoning in common life. 

From the treatise of the learned JDr. Watts have been drawn 
some valuable observations on Prejudices, and on Fallacies in 
Reasoning ; also, some important Principles and Rules of Judg- 
ment, in matters of Reason and Speculation, of Moralit}^ and 
Religion, of Human Prudence, of Human Testimony, and of 
Divine Testimony. He has supplied us, also, with some ex- 
cellent Rules of Method in Reasoning. 

The pages drawn from the work of Dr. Ahercromhie (on the 
Intellectual Powers) are regarded as possessing uncommon 
value. They instruct us how we may examine and test the 
validity of a process of reasoning : they expose the most com- 
mon fallacies that are practised in reasoning : they enable us 
to distinguish the sound exercise of judgment from the art of 
ingenious disputation ; and they contain some admirable re- 
marks upon the due culture and regulation of the judgment, 
shoAving its important applications, alike to the formation of 
opinions and the regulation of conduct. While some of these 
topics do not fall within the narrow limits of the Ancient 
Logic, they possess an admirable fitness to prepare the mind 
for logical investigations, and deductions, and communications, 
as well as for a rational course of action. 

To Archbishop Whatehj this volume is much indebted, not 
for what has been taken from his Logic^ but from the First 
Part of his work on Rhetoric, which, for all the practical pur- 
poses of life, in matters of reasoning, is far more valuable than 
the other work. The best thoughts which he has therein com- 
municated on the subject of reasoning have been selected, and 
introduced into the present work, and will be acknowledged to 
be worthy of diligent study and attention. 

To the additions already named has been appended, as in- 
teresting, and not inappropriate, a brief illustration of the 
Socratic method of Reasoning. 



INTKODrCTOET OBSERVATIONS. 9 

These additions, wliicli are either distributed through the 
Lectures or appended, may readily be distinguished from them 
by being included in brackets, or by a distinct announcement 
being made. 

The last three Lectures of the original work of Professor 
Barron, embracing a general view of human knowledge, or of 
the sciences and arts which are proper objects of investigation, 
have been omitted in this volume, as not peculiarly appro- 
priate to a work on Logic. Some portions of the other Lec- 
tures, also, of a local character, or of not sufficient pertinency 
and importance, have been omitted, and occasionally a verbal 
correction has been made. The Editor has, further, taken the 
liberty of indicating by the Italic character the prominent top- 
ics — has prepared running titles at the top of the page, and 
arranged the matter of the Lectures under two forms of type, 
that the illustrative and also the less important parts might be 
more readily discerned, — thus adapting the Lectures to more 
convenient use in the class-room, or for private reading. 

What Mr. Thomson has so well said in the conclusion of his 
able work on the Laws of Thought, the compiler of the present 
work would here introduce, as conveying an important admoni- 
tion to those who would derive from it the greatest amount of ben- 
efit which it is designed and suited to confer. He says : " If this 
little work is hastily examined and cast aside, of course the 
reader will not have become a logician ; he will have learned 
the unimportant fact that upon this or that disputed doctrine 
the author held this or that opinion, and his knowledge will go 
no further. Instead of learning Logic, he will know an insig- 
nificant fact in logical history. The mistake is not uncom- 
mon : — we inquire what Aristotle and Bishop Butler said on 
morality, and think that we have studied Moral Philosophy ; 
we read the Organon^ and call ourselves logicians. History 
presides over these and other facts : we are in her domain when 
we use our books in this narrow spirit. Philosophy does not 

1^^ 



10 INTRODUCTOET OBSERVATIONS. 

exist until tlie mind of the student begins to work for itself 
with the principles it receives historically ; to decompose and 
to compose anew, to criticise the arguments employed, to essay 
at least to push the confines of Truth further into the wilds of 
error and ignorance, and to leave her a wider territory." 

" If Grammar is learnt by speaking and writing ; if a man 
cannot become an orator without repeated efforts to speak in 
public, nor a poet without practising the mechanism of verse, 
till he can use it with ease, it seems absurd to expect that a 
course of lectures heard, with a string of definitions learnt, 
will make a logician. Let those who wish to possess the intel- 
lect they have received from above in the depth and clearness, 
the sober composure, the calm activity which a high degree of 
culture can alone bestow, venture to study Logic in a larger 
spirit than the merely historical." 

Having thus stated the general design, and glanced at the 
more prominent topics considered in this volume, and having 
noticed some of the various enlargements and improvements, 
which have been attached to the original Lectures that form the 
basis of the present work, the Editor sends it forth on a mis- 
sion of usefulness among the Academies, Female Seminaries, 
and Colleges of this Western Hemisphere, with the earnest de- 
sire that it may be found eminently serviceable in forwarding 
the cause of Truth, and in promoting a sound and useful edu- 
cation. 

J. R. B. 

Geneva, N. Y. 



CONTENTS 



PAflB. 

Introditotion, by Professor Barron 13 

LECTURE I. 
Object of Logic — Its utility — Operations of the mind — Ideas — 

simple and complex — distinct and obscure 15 

LECTUEE IL 

Ideas, adequate and inadequate — particular and abstract — Genera 
and Species — Extension and Intension — Rules for acquiring 
and examining Ideas 23 

LECTURE III. 
Rules to prevent ambiguity — Division — ^Description — Definition. . SY 

LECTURE IV. 
Knowledge and truth, what ? — ^The result of Intuition or of Rea- 
soning — -Propositions — constituent parts — Various kinds of 
propositions — Propositions, expressive of relations — Sources 
whence propositions are derived 51 

LECTURE V. 

Propositions derived from Consciousness — from Intuition — from 
Reasoning — from Testimony — Inference, or Reasoning in gen- 
eral — Prejudices 62 

LECTURE VI 
Prejudices 81 

LECTURE VII. 
Rules to prevent Prejudices — Principles and Rules of Judgment, 
in matters of Reas9n and Speculation — in matters of Morality 
and Religion — of Human Prudence — of Divine Testimony. . . 96 



12 CONTENTS. 

LECTURE yill. PAGE. 
Reasoning — mathematical — moral — political — prudential — Proba- 
ble Reasoning 113 

LECTURE IX. 
Different processes of Reasoning — Examination of the validity of 
a process of Reasoning — Different kinds of Sophistry — The 
various use and order of several kinds of Propositions and of 
Arguments in different cases — The exercise of a sound Judg- 
ment , 127 

LECTURE X. 
Syllogism 187 

LECTURE XI 
Syllogism — Its merits as a mode of reasoning 202 

CONCLUDING CHAPTER. 
Br. Bro-wn's Analysis of the Scholastic Logic — Mr. Mills on Syllo- 
gism — ^The Socratic Method of Reasoning — Thomson's Divi- 
sion of the Sciences 218 



INTRODUCTION. 

BY PROFESSOR BARRON. 



Some people imagine that Logic is a frivolous, an os- 
tentatious, at best an unnecessary art, wliich may serve 
to puzzle and perplex, but can be of little utility in 
business or philosophy. Others are perhaps of opinion, 
though it were more useful than it is, yet it requires a 
study so dry and uninteresting, so abstract and difficult, 
that few inquirers have patience to make any progress 
in it, or to convert it to any advantage. 

Were the system I have to lay before you composed 
of the idle syllogism of the schools, which till lately was 
the only system taught in our colleges, I should not 
have confidence to maintain, that there was not a great 
deal of foundation for the first objection. In the short 
account of that system which I have to advance, I be- 
lieve it will appear, that it is a vain and unavailing in- 
strument of truth and knowledge. 

But, though the syllogism of the schools, and the old 
art of logic, be admitted to be idle systems, yet we 
surely have more candor than to infer, that there is no 
art at all in reasoning ; that there is no such thing as 
good reasoning ; or that it is of little use to be a good 
reasoner. I, on the contrary, will take for granted, that 
there is no accomplishment or qualification any man 
can acquire more important. Whether, then, you be- 
come in life men of speculation, or men of business, in 
every step you take, your rational faculty must be con- 



14 INTKODrCTION. 

stantly exerted ; and the following lectures are calcula- 
ted entirely to render you expert and successful in that 
exercise. 

As to the second objection, that the study is uninter- 
esting, dry, and difficult, the proper answer is, that it is 
no more so than every exercise of the understanding 
naturally is, and must be. There is nothing in it either 
so uninteresting, so dry, or so difficult, which any per- 
son possessed of ordinary capacity may not easily sur- 
mount, and which every person must surmount, who 
expects to acquire, either in philosophy, literature, or 
business, as much use of his understanding as to attend 
to any train of thought. It is by the proper use of his 
understanding that man attains his eminent character- 
istic of being rational. It is by the proper use of his 
understanding that he can make any j^rogress in knowl- 
edge. It is by the same means only that he can ob- 
tain the flattering distinctions claimed by superior 
judgment, and by which he can avoid the disgrace at- 
tached to ignorance and stupidity. In a word, to all 
orders of men, true logic pretends to lend the most 
salutary aid. Her pretensions are at least commend- 
able, and her efforts are entitled to the most patient re- 
flection and candid examination.^ 

[* Whatever has at any time been concluded justly, whatever knowl- 
edge has been acquired otherwise than by immediate intuition, depended 
upon the observance of the laws which it is the province of logic to in- 
vestigate. If the conclusions are just, and the knowledge sound, those 
laws have actually been observed. We need not, therefore, seek any fur- 
ther for a solution of the question, so often agitated, respecting the utility 
of logic. If a science of logic exists, or is capable of existing, it must be 
useful. If there be rules to which every mind conforms in every instance 
in which it judges rightly, there seems little necessity for discussion 
whether a person is more likely to observe those rules, when he knows 
the rules, than when he is unacquainted with them. — ITUls^ Logic. 



ELEMENTS OF LOGIC. 



LECTURE I. 

OBJECT OF LOGIC OPERATIONS OF THE MIND IDEAS SIMPLE 

AND COMPLEX DISTINCT AND OBSCURE. 

The object of education is to increase knowledge, to 
refine imagination, to improve taste, and to prepare us 
for acting a part in life, respectable and useful in itself, 
as well as advantageous and honorable to the public. 

The professed purpose of logic is to teach the right 
use of reason, both in the investigation and in the com- 
munication of truth ; to inform us how to introduce 
clearness and good order among our ideas ; to explain 
the operations of the mind, which are conversant about 
them ; and to guard us, in performing these operations, 
against falling into error."^ 

The understanding is occupied entirely about knowl- 
edge. The end of all science is to instruct us in 
knowledge : and the same end is pursued by all study, 
whether prudential, political, moral, or mechanical. 
In whatever way we exert our understanding, it is to 
obtain some information we did not possess before ; 

[* Logic, accurately defined, is the art of thinking and reasoning justly : 
it traces the progress of our knowledge from our first and most simple 
conceptions through all their different combinations, and all those nu- 
merous deductions that result from variously comparing them with one 
another. — Loiulon Cyc.'] 



16 OBJECT OF LOGIC. 

and the design of the art of logic is to hold forth the 
manner of attaining that knowledge with most ease and 
expedition. 

From these views of the nature and end of logic, it 
is apparent that it is one of the first arts to which we 
should apply our attention in our progress towards 
knowledge, as affording the best means of fortifying 
and improving our understanding. The more acute 
the understanding is, it will be more successful in the 
investigations of science. The less it is liable to err, 
the more certain and expeditious will be its progress. 
The more we are acquainted Avith those prejudices and 
partialities which have misled other reasoners, the less 
danger of mistake will therS be. The better we un- 
derstand the nature of the instrument we employ, the 
more expert and successful may we reasonably expect to 
be in the use of it. Every thing, then, in logic, that 
does not contribute to improve the understanding, and 
to promote our progress in useful knowledge, I shall not 
hesitate to pronounce unworthy of attention ; but every 
thing, on the other hand, that promotes these ends, 
cannot obtain more attention than it deserves. 

I am well aware that no art ever gave occasion to so 
much idle research, and fanciful refinement, as that of 
which I now speak. 'No art has so much bewildered 
and repressed every useful exertion of the understand- 
ing, as that which pretended to enlighten and improve 
this faculty, and to guide it in the road to truth. All 
the efforts of human genius, all the learning which for 
many centuries prevailed in Europe, were subtle dis- 
quisitions and puzzling distinctions about the method 
of investigating knowledge, without applying that 
method to any important inquiry. All the syllogism 
of the schools, after the thousands of volumes that have 
been written upon it, and after the employment of a 



UTILITY OF LOGIC. 17 

series of ages to bring it to perfection, never enriched 
science or business with one useful discovery. 

Let US not, however, rashly conclude, that these abu- 
ses furnish a proof of the general inutility or insignifi- 
cance of the art to which I nov/ call your attention. 
It is curious even to survey the ingenuity with which 
so many men have gone wrong, with the endless per- 
plexities in which they have involved themselves. To 
point out these is one of the purposes of this work ; but 
it is of more substantial utility to learn the nature of 
truth, and the operations of the human mind, which 
are concerned in the discovery and extension of knowl- 
edge. 

As the sophistry, then, and absurdity, with which 
logic has been disgraced, are no valid objections against 
the use of it, so neither is the argument, that many 
men reason often very justly without any acquaintance 
with its rules. There is in all mankind some natural 
logic, for it is one of those arts which may be learned 
by practice, without the knowledge of theory. One of 
the best methods of making progress in the art of rea- 
soning, is actual practice, or the acquisition of the habit 
of examining a train of ideas that constitute an argu- 
ment; and of this branch of the art all men acquire 
some share by experience ; many men acquire a great 
deal. But, though long experience in sound reasoning 
may render us expert logicians, in the same manner as 
practice, without the knowledge of principles, may 
form eminent practitioners in any other art ; yet this 
success will not justify any inference against the utility, 
or even the propriety of theory. The end of all theory 
in the arts is to render us more methodical and reputa- 
ble performers, and it can scarcely fail to produce this 
efiect, when properly applied. 

What is the theory of an art ? It is a philosophical 



18 UTILITT OF IJOGIC. 

delineation of the principles on whicli the art is found- 
ed, of the end it has in view, and of the means by 
which it proposes to accomplish that end. From tliis 
delineation are dednced the rules of the best practice, 
which are commonlj illustrated from the experience of 
the most successful practitioners. A theory of an art, 
then, is a collection of all the knowledge which can be 
obtained concerning that art, from the combined infor- 
mation of all preceding theorists and practitioners. It 
points out the most patent and direct road to success, 
and it marks all the corners and obstructions, at which 
improper deviations are most likely to be committed ; 
so that, after having learned the theory, nothing re- 
mains but to obtain the habit of ready and accurate 
practice, in order to render us able and successful per- 
formers. 

Although, then, many men are good reasoners who 
never learned logic, yet the knowledge of that art may 
be neither superfluous nor nugatory ; because an ac- 
quaintance with.it may either facilitate our progress in 
becoming good reasoners, or may enable us to reach 
greater eminence in that line, than those who have not 
enjoyed the advantages we possess; and if we acquire 
by it either of these emoluments, it is of too much im- 
portance not to attract our serious attention."^- 

[* Logic lias its u.-.e in improving the condition of men : it teaches, or 
may be made to teach, them to tliink. Tlie active intellect lias two parts, 
one of which originates our thouglits, and may be called the suggestive, 
whilst the other checks and judges thoughts as they arise, and may be 
called the critical power. Thoughts are continually suggested without the 
consent of the will. The suggestive power may be educated as certainly 
as, though more gradually than, the critical. The discovery which we call 
a fliisli of genius, a happy thought, really depends as much upon previous 
acquirements, as the power of stating a case or applying a rule does. All 
di.-cipline of the suggestive must proceed from the critical power : it is by 
a long, carefid, patient analysis of the reasonings by which others have at- 
tained tlieir results, that we learn to think more correctly ourselves. He 
who reads over a work on logic probably thinks no better when he rises 



THEORY OF LOGIC. 19 

As the object of logic is to teacli the best use of oiir 
rational faculty, botli in investigating and in communi- 
cating truth, the theory of it, and the materials of 
which that theory consists, are deduced from this end. 
That ^Am/'^, accordingly, consists of two parts; the na- 
ture of ideas, ^Yhich are the materials on which we rea- 
son, and the nature of the faculties or operations of the 
mind w^hich are concerned in reasoning. Before we 
can reason, we must have ideas; and before we can 
reason lightly, we must understand what kind of opera- 
tion reasoning is. The explication of both compre- 
hends the wdiole of logic which is of any use. 

In explaining the nature of ideas, and of the opera- 
tions employed about them, one of tvv^o methods must 
be adopted. We must either treat them separately, or 
in conjunction. We must either first discuss the ideas, 
and then the operations, or we must carry on the ac- 
count of both at the same time. The latter is the bet- 
ter method, because one of the chief means of explain- 
ing the nature of ideas is, to point out the operations of 
which they are the objects ; and one of the chief means 
of illustrating the operations is, to present the single 
ideas, or the clusters of ideas, about which the opera- 
tions are exerted. This latter method we cannot hesi- 
tate to follow ; and, in adopting it, all we have to do 
is, to specify and illustrate the operations from experi- 
ence, and then to explain the single ideas, or the collec- 
tions of ideas, about which each operation is conversant. 



np tbaa when he sat down ; but if any of the principles there unfolded' 
cleave to his memory, and he afterwards, perhaps \xnconseiousl,v, shapes 
and corrects his thoughts by them, no donbt his whole powers of reason- 
ing' gr;;dually receive benetit. In a word, every art, from reasoning down 
to riding ;ijid rowhig, is learnt by assiduous practice, and if prinL-ioles do 
sny good, it is proportioned to the readiness with which tliey can be con- 
verted into rules, and the patient constancy with which they are applied 
in all our attempts to excel. — Thomson.] 



20 CLASSIFICATION OF IDEAS. 

The operations employed in the investigation of truth 
are commonly reckoned three — perception, judgment, 
and reasomng. B j ^?^rc^J?^5^6»?^ is understood that ope- 
ration by which the mind sees and becomes acquainted 
with every single idea it possesses. By judgment is 
understood that operation by which the mind discovers 
the agreement or the disagreement of any two ideas it 
may have occasion to compare, in order to discover 
truth and knowledge. By reasoning is understood that 
operation in which the mind compares two ideas by 
means of one or more intermediate ideas, in order to 
discover the amount of what is commonly called a de- 
monstration or an argument. This short account of 
these operations must at present suffice ; for, as they 
comprehend the whole theory of logic, I am afterwards 
to resume and consider them separately.^ 
~ Ideas are arranged into classes^ and different names 
assigned, according as they are simple or complex, dis- 
tinct or confused, adequate or inadequate, particular or 
abstract. 

A simple idea^ as its name insinuates, can be contem- 
plated only in one view. It cannot be divided or taken 
to pieces, because it does not consist of parts, being 
naturally indivisible. 

Most of our ideas of the qualities of bodies are of this class — as 
hard, soft, round, smooth, white, black, cold, hot ; all ideas, per 
haps, of tastes, smells, sounds — as bitter, sweet, low, loud; and many 
of our ideas of the feelings and operations of the mind — as of desire, 
aversion, hunger, pain, thinking, willing, discerning, reasoning. 



[* Mr. Thomson distributes the subject into three parts, the first treatr- 
ing of conception, or the power of forming general notions ; the second of 
judgment, or the power of deciding whether two notions agree or not; 
and tlie third of syllogism, or the power of drawing one judgment from 
another. To these a fourth part, in which method, or the power of using 
the other three functions in the discovery of truth, is explained, has been 
usually added, which answers to applied logic] 



CLASSES OF IDEAS. 21 

"We cannot divide them, even in imagination ; they are perfectly 
uniform, and void of parts. 

A coinr)lex idea contains two or more simple or 
subordinate ideas, into which it may be divided, and 
which subordinate ideas, when divided, may be consid- 
ed separately. All our ideas of substances are com- 
plex, as of animals, vegetables, and the inanimate parts 
of nature. 

The idea of a tree, for instance, includes a great variety of subor- 
dinate ideas — those of wood, stock, roots, branches, vegetable hfe, 
shape, leaves, bark, blossoms, fruit ; several of which subordinate 
ideas may be subdivided into other ideas. All ideas of figures — as 
of circles, squares, triangles, cubes, cylinders, pyramids ; most of 
the ideas of virtues and vices — as of justice, fortitude, veracity, 
theft, ingratitude, falsehood, deceit. 

The second division of ideas was, into distinct and 
confused^ or, w^hich is much the same thing, into clear 
and ohsciire. Distinct or clear ideas are those of which 
we have full and perfect comprehension, and which w^e 
can readily separate or distinguish from all other ideas. 
Confused or obscure ideas are those of which we have 
not full and perfect comprehension, and which we can- 
not easily separate or distinguish from all other ideas. 
Distinct and clear ideas are 23erceived with a perspicacity 
and energy similar to that by which the mind contem- 
plates figures in mathematics, or numbers in arithmetic ; 
all their boundaries and their differences are completely 
discernible. Confused or obscure ideas are like the 
colors of a rainbow, they run into one another, and 
the mind neither perceives fully their nature nor their 
limits. 

The acquisition of clear and distinct ideas is of the 
utmost consequence in the investigation of knowledge ; 
for the degree of conviction with which it is presented 
to the mind, is always in proportion to the degree of 



22 IMPOKTANCE OF CLEAR IDEAS. 

clearness and distinctness which we have introduced 
among our ideas. Were all our ideas clear, all om* 
knowledge would be demonstrative, a quality which 
belongs only to our scientific knowledge. Obscurity, 
more or less, adheres to all our other ideas, and leaves 
us only greater or less degrees of probable evidence, 
corresj)onding to the less or greater obscurity of our 
ideas. 

In the mathematical sciences, and in arithmetic, the evidence is 
demonstrative, because our ideas of all the figures and numbers 
about which we reason are perfectly clear and distinct, and be- 
cause, in comparing them, we perceive accurately whether they 
agree or disagree ; and if they disagree, how great the excess of 
one is above another, so that we can affirm, either that they are 
equal, or that the one exceeds the other by a certain quantity. 

In morals, in politics, in arts, and in business, almost all our 
ideas are more or less obscure; hence, in comparing them, we can- 
not precisely pronounce whether they agree or disagree ; and 
though we were sure that they disagree, yet we cannot accurately 
ascertain the difference. The necessary consequence is, that in all 
these branches of knowledge, we can obtain no demonstrative evi- 
dence for truth. We must be satisfied with probable evidence, 
and we should be attentive to procure ideas as clear and distinct 
as possible, that we may reach the highest degree of probability. 

I shall not at present pursue farther the doctrine of 
distinct and obscure ideas ; a future opportunity will 
occur of discussing more completely this important 
subject. I shall then have occasion to point out the 
caution with which we should proceed in the examina- 
tion of our ideas, the prejudices by which they are 
obscured, but particularly the attention we must em- 
ploy to prevent the confusion which may be introduced 
among them by the improper use of words. From 
these views, the important and extensive utility of logic 
will appear, and how deeply its rules and principles 
enter into all our inquiries and knowledge. 



IDEAS ADEQUATE AND mADEQUATE. 23 



LECTUEE II. 

IDEAS ADEQUATE AND INADEQUATE PARTICULAR AND AB- 
STRACT RULES CONCERNING IDEAS. 

The third division of ideas related to their being 
adequate or inadequate. An adequate idea is a perfect 
picture of its archetype, or contains a representation of 
all the parts of which the archetype (or object) consists. 
It is different from a distinct idea, because an idea may 
be distinct and not adequate ; that is, we may have a 
clear perception of all the parts of an idea, as far as 
these parts extend, though these parts may not consti- 
tute a complete collection of those of the archetype. 

We may have, for example, a distinct idea of a triangle, and yet 
not possess an adequate idea of a right-angled triangle, an isosceles, 
or scalennm — which, besides the general ideas of three sides and 
three angles, require that the sides and angles should be of a par- 
ticular species. An inadequate idea is not a perfect picture of its 
archetype, or contains not a complete representation of the parts 
of which the archetype consists. 

Almost all simple ideas are adequate, as those of 
culors, tastes, or qualities; all ideas of mathematical 
figures, and of numbers, as triangles, squares, cubes, 
cylinders, fifty, a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand. 
But although, when we examine archetypes with atten- 
tion, ideas will be as adequate as we can make them ; 
and when knowledge is either demonstrative or even 
highly probable, ideas must really, or very nearly, be 
adequate ; yet if we compare ideas, not only with what 
we know of their archetypes, but with what may be 
known of them, aild perhaps is known of them by supe- 



24 IDEAS PARTICULAK OR ABSTRACT. 

rior beings, few of our ideas, except those of mathe- 
matics and arithmetic, will be found to be adequate. 

There is hardlj any other thing in nature, of which 
our knowledge is complete. Yf e are acquainted with 
a few only of the properties of animals, vegetables, and 
inanimate matter ; what substance is, whether of matter 
or spirit, is totally beyond our comprehension. 

The whole system of the transmutation, or the assimilation of 
nature, by which the nutriment of animals is converted into the 
different parts of which their bodies consist, bones, flesh, sinews, 
blood, hair, horn, &c., and by which inanimate nature is converted 
into the numerous parts of vegetables and metals, seemingly so 
different from one another, as trees, shrubs, leaves, bark, blossoms, 
fruit, gold, silver, mercury, &c., is to us altogether unintelligible. 

In all these cases, and in many others which might 
be mentioned, our ideas are unavoidably inadequate. 
But fortunate would it be if our ideas were always ade- 
quate, or as near to adequate as possible, when it is in 
our power, by industry and attention, to make them so. 
They are less adequate than they might be, chiefly 
from two causes — first, carelessness in the examination 
of archetypes, which overlooks some of their properties 
or parts ; and, secondly, inattention in ascertaining the 
meaning of the words employed to denote them, which 
words often do not express the same parts, or all the 
parts, in our minds, which they do in the minds of 
others. In both cases, our knowledge cannot be so 
complete as that of a person who has taken care to 
prevent these errors or defects ; and in every discourse 
or controversy with that person, we must misunderstand 
him when these words occur. 

The last distinction of ideas considers them as jpar- 
ticular or alstract. This is the most important distinc- 
tion, as it enters deep into the constitution both of 
language and knowledge. All thi]%s exist in nature 



IDEAS PARTICULAR OR ABSTRACT. 25 

as individuals or particulars. Every substance is that 
of some particular animal, vegetable, or inanimate 
piece of matter. Every material quality, as hard, 
smooth, rough, black, white, belongs to some substance 
or body, without which the quality cannot subsist. 
Every virtue or vice has always relation to some agent; 
and though we may speak, speculate, or reason con- 
cerning them separated from this agent, yet we must 
admit that, indej)endent of him, they have no actual 
existence, nor any existence except in idea. 

Particular ideas represent individuals as they exist 
in nature, as a house, a horse, a man, a tree, for which, 
perhaps, we have no names, or to which we give the 
names of St. James's, Bucephalus, Alexander, or the 
Royal Oak. Ideas, however, would be in number infi- 
nite, and communication, of course, w^ould be impracti- 
cable, if every individual thing with which we are 
acquainted were to require an idea and a name to de- 
note it. To surmount this obstacle, the mind is very 
fortunately endowed with the faculty called abstraction, 
by which it arranges into classes all the individuals 
which have any common qualities, or which have any 
thing similar, either in their figure, existence, or action. 
It assigns a general idea and name to each class, and 
takes the trouble, only when compelled so to do, to 
specify individuals, to distinguish them in the mind by 
ideas, and in language by names.* Ideas and lan- 
guage, by this expedient, are rendered exceedingly 
manageable and convenient ; for the individuals of 



[* A general name is one which is capable of being truly affirmed, in the 
same sense, of each of an indefinite number of things. 

An individual or singuUir name is a name which is capable of being truly 
affirmed, in the same sense, only of one thing. 

A class is the indefinite multitude of individuals denoted by a general 
name. — MilW Logic, p. 18.] 

2 



26 GENERAL OR ABSTRACT IDEAS. 

which it is necessary to form ideas and fabricate names 
are not very numerous, being limited chiefly to the hu- 
man race. It was much more necessary to assign ideas 
and names to the individuals of this class, than to assign 
ideas and names to all the individuals of all the classes 
in nature, while the expedient of giving a general name is 
equally convenient for the purposes of communication.* 
This power of forming an idea of a class of objects, is 
called abstraction, for the following reason : The idea 
of a class contains only those parts or qualities which 
are common to all the individuals of the class ; while 
the qualities peculiar to any individual are left out, or 
abstracted from those w^hich constitute the general idea 
of the class. 

The general or abstract idea, for example, of the class of vegeta- 
bles called trees, contains the following parts : a plant of considera- 
ble height, which sets out large branches, is clothed with bark, and 
in summer bears leaves and seeds. All the plants that can be 
called trees have these qualities ; and in forming an idea of these 
qualities, the mind abstracts its attention from ah the qualities 
which are peculiar to any particular tree, such as the size and di- 
rection of the branches, the nature of the wood, the color, surface, 
and shape of the bark, and of the leaves, and the nature and prop- 
erties of the seeds, such as berries, acorns, apples, pears, &c. 
Again, the general idea of a horse contains the idea of a large and 
beautiful quadruped, of cylindrical body, high-set neck, taper limbs, 
swift, strong, useful, docile ; but it includes not the ideas of shape, 
color, size, pleasure, or utility, which distinguish individuals, the 
race-horse, the hunter, the war-horse, or the liorse of the plough. 



[*The notions formed in the mind from things offered to it, are either 
of single objects, as of " this pain, that man, Westminster Abbey;" or of 
many objects gathered into one, as "pain, man, abbey." Notions of 
single objects are called intuitions, as being such as the mind receives 
when it simply attends to or inspects {Intuetur) the object. Notions 
formed from several objects are called conceptions, as being produced by 
the povi^er which the mind possesses of taking several things together 
iconcvpere, i. e., ca^pere hoc cum illo). They are also called general notions. 
— Themson.] 



CLASSES OF OBJECTS. 27 

The mind is not satisfied with forming one grade of 
classes, which may comprehend individuals. It gener- 
alizes much farther, with the same view of simplifying 
and facilitating the means of commmiication and knowl- 
edge, and of abridging the number of ideas and words. 
It constitutes classes above classes. Accordingly, it 
forms a second class^ containing the properties which 
one first class has in common with other first classes, so 
that the first class is now^ considered as making only one 
of the constituent parts of the second class. 

Tlie class of creatures called men^ for example, comprehends 
what qualities are common to all its individuals, Eomulus, Alexan- 
der, Julius Osesar. But the class of men has many common quali- 
ties with other classes of living creatures, horses, dogs, sheep, fishes, 
fowls, &c., namely, life, motion, shape, color ; and hence, of these 
common properties is framed a higher class, called that of animals^ 
which contains the qualities common to all living creatures.* 

The mind sometimes ascends higher, and forms 
another class more general^ of all the properties which 
this second class has in common with other classes in 
nature. Eor example, animals have several properties 
in common with vegetables, as shape, color, growth, 
decay, circulation of juices ; of these is formed a third 
class^ called animated nature. We may proceed further 
still to form 2i fourth class^ which will contain all things. 



[* By observing John, Thomas, and Peter, and abstracting from their 
accidents the essential marks, we get the notion of man ; but again, by 
comparing tlie conception man with other conceptions, cow, sheep, wolf, 
whale, and observing the mark common to all, that they suckle their young, 
we form the wider conception mammalia, — wider, because it includes man 
and many other conceptions. We may carry the process further still ; 
and, with writers on Natural History, compare the mammalia with aves, 
amphibia, pisces, insectaj, and vermes, when we shall discover that all 
these, however different, agree in having life and sensation, from which 
marks we gain the new conception animal, wider than any of tlie former, 
as including them all, — higher, as requiring a second step in the abstrac- 
tive process to roach it. — Thomson.'] 



28 STEPS OF GENERALIZING. 

anim.ate and inanwiate. The properties, however, of 
it are very few, and scarcely amount to more than ex- 
istence and lignre. 

Though all these steps of generalizing are sometimes 
necessary or useful, yet knowledge and language sel- 
dom require attention to more than three of them ; 
namelj, the individual, the first class, and the second. 
The first class is called the species^ the second the genus. 
Thus, Alexander is the individual, man is the species, 
and animal is the genus ; the royal oak is the individ- 
ual, tree is the species, and vegetable is the genus ; St. 
James's is the individual, dwelling-house is the species, 
edifice is the genus. The third and fourth classes are 
also denominated genera. The second class, or the one 
immediately above the species, is called ih.Q proximate 
genus^ the third and fourth classes are called transcen- 
dent genera. The proximate genus of the species man 
is animal ; existence is the transcendent genus. The 
proximate genus of tree is vegetable ; the transcendent 
may be animated nature, or existence.* 

It is to be observed, though general or abstract ideas 
are more comprehensive, or extend to more objects, than 
particular ideas, yet that they are less complex, or con- 
tain fewer parts, and that the more general they are^ 
the less complex they are^ or contain fewer parts in pro- 



[* Tlie same class wLich is a genus with reference to the sub-classes or 
species included in it, may be itself a species with reference to a more 
comprehensive, or superior, genus. Man is a species with reference to an- 
imal, but a genus with reference to the species, mathematician. Animal is 
a genus, divided into two species, man and brute; but animal is also a 
species, which, with another species, vegetable, makes up the genus, or- 
ganized being. Biped is a genus with reference to man and bird, but a 
species with respect to the superior genus, animal. Taste is a genus, of 
which, sweet taste, sour taste, &c., are species ; but taste is a species of 
the genus, sensation. Virtue, a genus with reference to justice, temper- 
ance, &e., is one of the species of the genus, mental quality. — MiW Logic^ 
p. 82.] 



EXTENSION AND INTENSION. 29 

portion. The reason is exceedingly obvious. A genns 
contains only the few ]3roperties which are common to 
the several species which it includes, and which are not 
nearly so numerous as those that belong to each species. 
The species, again, contains the properties which are 
common to all the individuals it includes, and which 
are not so numerous as those that pertain to each indi- 
vidual. The genus animal, for instance, includes few 
properties, life, shape, color, motion, growth, decay. 
The sjyecies man contains all these properties of the ge- 
nus, besides those of the species, namely, power of 
speech, thinking, acting with design, and many others. 
The indimdiial contains all these qualities I have enu- 
merated, both of the genus and of the species, together 
with those peculiar to the individual, wise or prudent, 
knowing or ignorant, rich, poor, fortunate, unfortunate, — 
all these qualities, however variable, and in a particu- 
lar degree corresponding to the nature or character of 
the individual.^ 

[* Extension and InUnsion. When we compare a vague and general 
conception with a narrower and more definite one, we find that the former 
contains far more objects in it than the latter. Comparing plant with ge- 
ranium, for example, we see that plant includes ten thousand times more 
objects, since the oak, and fir, and lichen, and rose, and countless others, 
including geranium itself, are implied in it. This capacity of a conception 
we call its extension. The extension of plant is greater than that of gera- 
nium^ because it includes more objects. 

But conceptions have another capacity. Whilst plant has more objects 
under it than geranium, it has fewer marks in it — fewer properties by which 
we assign it a place under some appropriate conception. I can describe the 
leaves, petals, stamina, and pistils oi geranium^ but of plant no such de- 
scription is possible. I cannot say that every plant has a stem, for there 
are the licliens to contradict me ; nor a flower, for ferns have none, and so 
on, I can say little more ^owt plant^ than that all plants have growth and 
vegetable life. The logical expression of this defect is, that its intens'"on is 
very limited. 

Tl>e greater the extension, the less the intension; the more objects a 
conception embraces, the more slender the knowledge which it conveys of 
any of tliose objects ; and vice versa. 

With the help of the important distinction between extension andinten- 



30 UnLITY OF ABSTRACT IDEAS. 

The power of abstraction is one of the most important 
belonging to the nnderstanding, and the practice of it in 
science and in business is of the most extensive nse. It 
will afterwards be explained, that all definitions are 
regulated by the arrangements of abstraction, and that 
they consist entirely in referring an individual to its 
species, with the addition of some quality which distin- 
guishes it from the other individuals of its species ; or 
in referring a species to its genus, with the addition of 
some cpiality which characterizes it as a species. 

To evince the exceedingly extensive utility ofabstrcoG- 
tion^ I must observe, that all science, almost all reason- 
ing, indeed almost all the words of language, are con- 
versant about abstract ideas. You will readily appre- 
hend, that the two sciences of quantity, mathematics and 
arithmetic, are occupied entirely about abstract ideas. 

E'o property is demonstrated of any triangle in the elements of 
geometry, that is not true of all triangles, at least all triangles of the 
same kind. The figure delineated on the board of the mathemati- 
cian is not particular or local ; it represents every figure of the same 
species, and the demonstration is equally extensive in its applica- 
tion, namely, to all figures of the species. Were not this the case, sci- 
ence would have no existence, and the mind of man could make no 
progress in knowledge. Were not this the case, the mathematician 
would be obliged to demonstrate the properties of every particular 
figure he should employ, and all progress in knowledge would be 
suspended, because the new figures of the same species which may 
occur are infinite. 

All the operations in arithmetic, the objects of which are dis- 



sion, or as others express it, the spliere and matte)' of the conception, we 
can understand the meaning of the saying, that the subject of a judgment 
is in the predicate, and the predicate in the subject. " Man is an animal :" 
this conveys two notions, that rnan is contained in animal^ as a species in 
a genus ; and that wj)atever makes up our notion of animal— all the marks 
of animal— are contained in man. So they are mutually contained. In- 
stead of "man is an animal," Aristotle would say "animal inheres in. 
man." — Thomson.'] 



UTILITY OF ABSTRACT IDEAS. 31 

creted quantity, or quantity divided into parts, are of a general na- 
ture, and all the truths they establish are of the same denomination. 
The capital operations of addition and subtraction, into which all 
others in arithmetic are resolvable, however apparently removed 
from them, respect not the comparison of any two individual parts 
of divisible quantity; the conjunction of both in one total, wliich 
is the object of addition, or the disjunction of the quantity by which 
the greater exceeds the lesser, which is the object of subtraction. 
They are of a general nature, and are applicable to all cases what- 
ever, in which quantity is divisible and separable. 

In like manner, inqniries in morals, concerning vir- 
tues and vices ; in politics, concerning legislation, and 
the liappiness of communities ; in arts, concerning 
beauty and utility ; in business, concerning propriety, 
decency, wisdom, and interest ; are all of an abstract 
nature, and are theories established by argumentation 
and experience, which every individual applies to his 
particular case, according to his best judgment. 

We must not, however, conclude, that no reasoning 
is competent about particular ideas or individuals. 
The agreement or disagreement of ideas, in which 
knowledge consists, is equally perceptible in particular 
ideas as in general ones ; and we can reason as well 
about one man, one tree, or one triangle, as about the 
species or genus of these individuals. But all particu- 
lar reasonings are confined to the cases to which they 
are applied ; and, of course, as they are of very limited 
use, we avoid them as much as possible, and rathe/* 
seek for general theories, in which particular cases may 
be included. In a word, all the appellative nouns of 
language are significant only of abstract ideas, so that 
there is hardly a topic about which we can either speak 
or write, that is not the offspring of abstraction. 

As abstraction is the capital operation by which 
ideas are prepared for reasoning, and by which reason- 
ings become of extensive use, so it is the operation by 



32 EULES FOE ACQUIRING IDEAS. 

which man is most eminently distinguished above the 
inferior animals. 

"We cannot doubt that the inferior animals possess particular 
ideas, and that they even deduce inferences from them ; that they 
are endowed with a power of recalling them, and of forming asso- 
ciations among them. The horse recollects, and discovers a mani- 
fest inclination to revisit the house where he . has formerly been 
well used ; but he forms the same opinion of no other house, where 
his opinion has not been supported by experience, that is, he draws 
no general conclusion concerning the probability of similar good 
usage in similar houses. The pointer that has frequently been 
beaten for starting heath-game or partridge before the fowler was 
ready to take aim, learns in time to connect correction with such 
rashness, and consequently forbears the latter from fear of the 
former ; but his associations extend not beyond his experience, and 
his primitive rashness remains with regard to a hare or a snipe. 

I have now explained those classes of ideas w^hich 
appear to be of consequence sufficient to attract atten- 
tion ; but, as I intend this course to be an introduction, 
not to the idle syllogism of the schools, but to sound 
reasoning in the sciences, in arts, and in business, and 
as ideas are the materials of all reasoning, before I re- 
linquish this subject I shall point out the most frequent 
causes of their imperfections, and endeavor to suggest 
the best means of preventing or removing these imper- 
fections. I shall not, however, treat of these topics 
separately, because they are necessarily conjoined. 
When we know the causes of errors, the road to truth 
is to avoid them. When the imperfections of ideas are 
removed, they become clear and distinct of course. I 
shall therefore comprehend both these views in the fol- 
lowing rules concerning the acquisition and examina- 
tion of ideas. 

1. Replenish the mind with as great "variety of im- 
portant ideas as jpossihle. 

The end of all science, of reading, of observation, of 



ACQUISITION OF NEW IDEAS. 33 

the study of nature and arts, of useful conversation, and 
of education, is to replenish the mind with ideas, in or- 
der to extend our knowledge, and to improve our facul- 
ties^ to render us happy in ourselves, serviceable to so- 
ciety and our friends, and respectable in life. Human 
knowledge, it must be confessed, is in many articles 
extremely limited. The business, the avocations, even 
the necessary amusements and refreshments of life, em- 
ploy a great part of our time. But, notwithstanding 
these disadvantages, much might be done, much im- 
portant information might be obtained, were we to 
spend, in searching for new ideas, what portion of time 
may still remain unoccupied. Industry, properly direct- 
ed, would be attended with signal acquisitions, and in 
this field nothing but industry can avail. Genius can- 
not begin to operate with advantage, till the mind has 
procured materials, numerous, valuable, and various. 
The end of education is to direct us in making these 
acquisitions ; but it is not to be expected, considering 
the immensity of the field we traverse, at a time of life 
when our heads are giddy, and our faculties unaccus- 
tomed to investigation, that we should make very much 
progress in appropriating what we learn. The acquisi- 
tion of new ideas should be the business of the best 
part of life, and no man ever accumulated a large trea- 
sure of them, who derived them not from his own ap- 
plication. Obtain, therefore, all the knowledge you 
can of science, of arts, of nature, of society, of manners, 
laws, and customs. Endeavor to gain great and com- 
prehensive views of men and things in all your re- 
searches and inquiries, and let these views serve as 
foundations of your judgments and reasonings in all 
your particular pursuits." 

[* " The way of attaining such an extensive treasure of ideas" (says Dr. 
Watts), " is, with diligence to apply yourself to read the best books; con- 

2« 



34 IMPORTANCE OF ACCUKACT OF IDEAS. 

2. Endeavor to attain acmtrate ideas of the informa- 
tion you o'eceive^ lohich requires two operations^ tirst, to 
compare ideas with their archetypes ; second, to com- 
pare them with the established meaning of the words 
bj which they are denoted. 

I need not employ much time to evince the necessity 
and utility of this rule. Unless accuracy be obtained, 
all our labor and search are in a great measure thrown 
away. If the foundation be not properly prepared and 
secured, the superstructure can never be finished wuth 
beauty and strength. Inaccurate ideas are little better 
than no ideas ; they are som^etiraes worse. In respect 
of every deduction resulting from them, they are not 
preferable to ignorance, because such deduction cannot 
be legitimate. But this is not their only inconvenience ; 
they lead us to suppose ourselves well-informed when 



verse with the most knowing and the wisest of men ; and endeavor to im- 
prove by every person in whose company you are : suffer no hoar to pass 
away in a Lizy idleness, in impertinent chattering, or useless trifles : visit 
other cities and countries when you have seen your own, under the care 
of one who can teach you to profit by travelling, and to make wise obser- 
vations : indulge a just curiosity in seeing the wonders of art and nature : 
search into things yourselves, as well as learn tiiem from others : be ac- 
quainted with men as well as books : learn all things as much as you can 
at first hand; and let as many of your ideas as possible be the representa- 
tions of things, and not merely the representations of other men's ideas : 
thus your soul, like some noble building, shall be richly furnished with 
original paintings, and not with mere copies." 

" In order to preserve your treasure of ideas ^ pursue the following ad- 
vice : — 

" (1.) Eecollect every day the things you have seen, or heard, or read, 
which may have made any addition to your understanding : read the wri- 
tings of God and men with diligence and perjoetual reviews : be not fond 
of hastening to a new book, or a new chapter, till you have well fixed in 
your mind what was useful in the last. 

" (2.) Talk over the things which you have seen, heard, or learned, with 
some proper acquaintance. 

"(3.) Commit to writing some of the most considerable improvements 
which you daily make, at least such hints as may recall them to your 
mind, when perhaps they are vanished and lost."] 



IMPORTANCE OF ACCUKAOY OF IDEAS. 35 

we are not so, and, of course, expose us to all the mor- 
tification which attends the detection of error, and to 
all those irksome contentions Avhich arise from contro- 
versies about the meaning of words. 

In comparing ideas with their archetypes, nothing 
more is requisite than patience and attention ; for, by 
the exercise of these qualities, we shall render our ideas 
as adequate and accurate as it is in our power to make 
them. We should, for this purpose, carefully and re- 
peatedly make comparison, particularly of ideas which 
lead to consequences of importance, or which relate to 
topics of ambiguity or difficulty. 

Of the three kingdoms of nature — animals, vegetables, and in- 
animate matter, the objects generally remain as long as we please 
under our examination, and we have sufficient time to attend to 
every particular necessary to be known. In the demonstrative 
sciences, also, mathematics and arithmetic, our ideas of princip^.es 
at least will be accurate ; and it is seldom that our conceptions, 
even of proofs and conclusions, are liable to ambiguity. The pre- 
cise and defined nature of the subjects of .these sciences, the simple 
and perspicuous language in which most writers have agreed to 
communicate them, render it almost impossible for a reader en- 
dowed with ordinary attention not to comprehend distinctly the 
sense intended to be communicated. 

It is, then, in the sciences susceptible only of proba- 
ble proof, in morals, in jDolitics, in metaphysics, in 
writings which convey miscellaneous truth, as history, 
criticism, but particularly in controversial writings, and 
in conversation, that the hazard of inaccurate ideas is 
very considerable, and the probability of avoiding them 
altogether is exceedingly small. One great source of 
ambiguity, in all these cases, is the indefinite nature of 
the subjects, and the different aspects under which they 
appear to different inquirers ; but the greatest source is 
the unavoidable ambiguity of language, and the diffi- 



36 IMPORT OF WORDS SHOULD BE UNDERSTOOD. 

culty of ascertaining exactly the meaning of words.* 
This double indistinctness, both of the subjects and of 
the means of communication, cannot fail to produce 
important consequences in all our opinions and reason- 
ings; and the subject is of too much moment not to 
obtain a little more of our attention. 

[* Since reasoning, or inference, the principal subject of logic, is an oper- 
ation which, usually takes place by means of words, and in all complicated 
cases can take place in no other way, those who have not a thorough in- 
sight into the signification and purposes of words, will be under almost a 
necessity of reasoning or inferring incorrectly. And logicians have gener- 
ally felt that unless in the very first stage they removed this fertile source 
of error, the pupil would not be in a condition to practise the remaining 
part of their discipline with any prospect of advantage. Therefore it is 
that an inquiry into language, so far as is needful to guard against the er- 
rors to which it gives rise, has at all times been deemed a necessary pre- 
liminary to the science of logic. 

But there is another reason why the import of words should be the 
earliest subject of the logician's consideration ; because without it he can- 
not examine into the import of propositions. Now this is a subject which 
Stands on the very threshold otlog'iG.— Mills'' Logic, pp. 11, 12.] 



SIMPLE IDEAS. 3? 



LECTURE III. 

IDEAS, SIMPLE AND COMPLEX TO PREVENT AMBIGUITY 

DIVISION RULES DESCRIPTION DEFINITION. 

To penetrate to the bottom of the doctrine of ambi- 
guity, as it relates both to thoughts and language, and 
to provide every possible preservative against it, I 
begin with observing, that, in respect of simple ideas, 
all mankind are nearly agreed, both about the arche- 
types and the expression of them, as soon as they are 
acquainted with the objects that suggest them, and 
understand the language of which the expression makes 
a part. , Simple ideas are not very numerous, and they 
are called simple, partly because they admit no divis- 
ions into parts, but chiefly because, in receiving them, 
the mind is perfectly passive, and cannot acquire them 
without an actual survey of the external objects which 
suggest them, or an actual feeling of the mental opera- 
tions which produce them. , The chief simjple ideas are 
those of the qualities of external objects, light, colors, 
tastes, smells, sounds ; those of the operations of the 
mind, perception, judgment, reasoning, willing; and 
those of pleasm'e and pain, power, extension, unity, ex- 
istence, which are derived partly from the senses, and 
partly from reflection. 

There is no method of conveying any knowledge of these ideas 
but by presenting their archetypes to the external or internal per- 
cipients ; and if a person be deprived of any of the senses which 
should convey the knowledge of them, no words, no signs, no 
known mode of communication can supply that defect ; he must 



38 COMPLEX IDEAS. 

forever remain in ignorance. If a person be deprived of sight, for 
example, he must be destitute of all conceptions of light and colors. 
If he reqiiire an account of thinking or willing, of pleasure or pain, 
we can only refer him to experience. 

About these ideas, then, no controversy can exist ; because, as 
all men must receive them from their archetypes, and, of course, 
all men must receive either the same impressions, and must have 
these impressions constantly suggested by the words allotted to 
denote them, or even if they receive somewhat different impres- 
sions, they must speak and reason about them as if they were the 
same — for every person can speak and reason onl}' about the simple 
ideas in his own mind. For example, it is reasonable to believe 
that the idea of the color denoted by the word gixen is the same 
in the minds of all men ; but though there were some difference of 
idea in different men, yet it could not perhaps be detected, for 
every person must speak and reason concerning that color from 
the idea of it he possesses. 

The next class of ideas about which, and the words 
that denote them, little difference or ambiguitj can 
take place, consists of those complex ideas^ which result 
from collections of sim]yle ideas of the sariie hind. 
These are the first remove from simple ideas ; and as 
simple ideas are clear and intelligible, the compositions 
made out of them partake of the natnre of their constit- 
uent parts, and are likewise clear and intelligible. The 
two sciences susceptible of demonstration present collec- 
tions of such ideas, and on this account, among others, 
they are capable of that high species of evidence. 

All the operations in arithmetic, however complex, never exhibit 
any collections of ideas, wiiich result not from different combina- 
tions or fractions of the simple idea of unity. All the enunciations 
and demonstrations of mathematics, however compounded and re- 
fined, contain no ideas which are not formed from combinations of 
the simple idea of extension. All the triangles, circles, squares, and 
parallelograms, about which the mathematician is conversant, ex- 
hibit only different views and combinations of the same simple idea 
of quantity. About simple ideas, of course, and those sciences 
which involve combinations of them, men have differed very little, 



COMPLEX IDEAS. 39 

either in the conceptions of them, or in the language that denotes 
them. 

Thus far our path is luminous and patent; here, 
however, the field of perfect light terminates, and the 
next stej? lands us in some degree of darkness and ob- 
scurity. When we enter the confines of the other 
sciences, morals, politics, criticism ; when we contem- 
plate the subjects of miscelhmeous knowledge, oratory, 
poetry, history, essays, or attend to the business of arts 
and common life, we immediately encounter complex 
ideas, comprehending large groups of subordinate 
ideas, and these groups composed not of combinations 
of the same simple idea, but of combinations of differ- 
ent ideas, partly simple and partly complex, and we 
find it almost impossible to avoid mistakes. 

"When we examine, for example, the ideas denoted by the word 
leauty^ a word in everybody's month, when speaking of trnth, 
arts, and animals, we are amazed at the multiplicity it includes, 
and the combinations it exhibits. When applied to truth, it de- 
notes &ome important proposition, established by a clear but a 
refined train of proof — as when we speak of a beautiful theorem, 
or a beautiful discovery. When applied to animals, it includes the 
ideas of s|iape, color, utility, sensibility, acquired bodily and mental 
accomphshments, youth, health, gracefulness. When apphed to 
arts, it includes uniformity, variety, high polish, convenience, 
utility — as when we speak of a beautiful woman, or a beautiful 
picture. 

Taste is another word in frequent use among men of genius and 
lovers of the fine arts, and it also will serve to illustrate to what 
ambiguity communication is in many cases unavoidably exposed. 
It signifies that sensibility to the beauties of nature, genius, and art, 
which results from a sound state of the imagination and the under- 
standing, and which- leads us to distinguish and properly prize these 
beauties. It is plain that much ground of difference is laid in the 
nature of the objects of this internal sense, because every man must 
judge from the state of his own faculties, and the cultivation of the 
faculties of no two men, perhaps, is entirely equal. Their ideas of 
the objects of taste must share a similar difference, and must cor- 



40 RULES AGAINST AMBIGUITT. 

respond to the state of their respective faculties. It were easy to 
multiply examples ; but it Avill appear from those I have adduced, 
that a double source of ambiguity prevails Avith respect to the ideas 
and words I have mentioned, and many more similar ideas and 
■words, which every day occur in books and in business. The ideas 
which compose a complex idea may really be different in different 
men's minds, according to the improvement of their faculties or 
powers of perception ; but the greatest hazard of error results from 
the inattention, with which the complex idea may be formed. 
Thus, one man may omit some of the ideas which compose the 
complex ones of beauty and taste ; others may add to them more 
ideas than they naturally and justly contain. 

Another great source of mribiguity in every inquiry 
where body or spirit is concerned, is the nature of sub- 
stances^ whether corporeal or spiritiiaL What substance 
is, we are utterly ignorant. All we can conceive of it 
is, that it supports qualities ; and, of course, all our 
ideas of substances are nothing more than collections 
of the qualities we have found to belong to them re- 
spectively. J^ow, if any person form not the same 
conception with us of any of these qualities, or if he 
either add to or diminish their number, it is plain that 
his complex idea of the substance can never agree with 
ours, and that in all communication concerning it, we 
and he must misunderstand one another. 

From these observations, the following important 
practical rules will be allowed to result, as the best 
preservatives against ambiguity. 

1. In all cases when complex ideas come under our 
consideration^ we should employ every precaution to 
render our collection of the constituent ideas as com- 
plete and accurate as possible j and whenever we dis- 
cover that our reasonings and conclusions disagree with 
the reasonings and conclusions of those with whom we 
converse, or whose books we read, we should stop and 
re-examine both the constituent ideas and the expres- 



ORIGIN OF DISPUTES. 41 

sion of them, because it is a thousand to one that in 
the re- examination we shall discover the cause of the 
difference. 

The propriety and utility of every part of this rule 
appears so obvious as hardly to need any illustration. 
Happy had it been for the peace of society, fortunate 
had it been for the progress of knowledge, if it had al- 
ways been punctually practised. All those irritating 
and frivolous disputes which pester conversation, almost 
all those controversies which have disturbed and dis- 
tracted the world, would have been prevented. Consult 
the controversies which have involved, not individuals 
only, but classes and periods of learned men, and you 
will find that they have originated chiefly from misap- 
prehensions of the ideas and terms which furnish the 
ground of the diiference, and that, if the parties had ex- 
ercised any patience and pains to understand one 
another, before they began to dispute, they might have 
prevented much trouble and vexation to themselves, and 
much contention and disturbance to, society. 

The famous controversy concerning the superior merit of ancient 
or modern learning, which interested and divided ahnost all the 
learned men of Europe in the end of the seventeenth and the begin- 
ning of the eighteenth century, and. which still interests, and some- 
times divides, learned men, appears a pertinent illustration. It is a 
controversy about the meaning of words, and affords very little 
ground of difference of opinion when the terms are fully ascer- 
tained. The parties have never considered, that no comparison of 
authors can exist, except in circumstances perfectly similar. If the 
state of ancient society gave encouragement to some efforts of genius 
and industry, which are not now prompted by similar incitements, 
can we wonder that these efforts should be more brilhant in the 
former situation, than they are found to be in the latter ? If ora- 
tory, statuary, architecture, and perhaps poetry, received superior 
countenance and patronage in Greece, than they found even in 
Rome, and much more than they have found in modern times, is 



42 ENUMERATION, OR DIVISION. 

it not natural to expect that their exhibitions should be more de- 
serving of applause ? 

If, on the other hand, the moderns possess superior knowledge of 
the system of nature, from the advantages Avhicli the progress of 
science has thrown into their hands; if the improvements of gov- 
ernment, and the extension of refinement and knowledge, have led 
them to excel in politics, in moral researches, and in the greater 
part of the useful arts, can we be surprised at their superiority ? 
It was impossible that the moderns could rival the ancients in the 
former case ; it is equally impossible that they should equal us in 
the latter. The superiority in the one case, or the inferiority in the 
other, is no compliment to, or impeachment of, the genius of either ; 
it is the natural consequence of the different situations of human 
affairs, and could not, without a miracle, have been otherwise. 
Had the keen combatants in this controversy attended to this nat- 
ural state of the case, tliey would have forborne their ill-founded 
and injurious recriminations. The patrons of modern literary merit 
unjustly measure the merits of ancient genius by a scale adopted 
from modern ideas and manners ; the patrons of ancient genius re- 
taliate the same game, and pretend to determine the eminence of 
modern genius by a scale derived from the ideas and manners of 
ancient times. Let these reasonable limitations be admitted, and 
the shadow of a controversy, I believe, would vanish ; the differ- 
ence would at least be found to be so frivolous, as to satisfy every- 
body of the absurdity of the contest. 

2. After ascertaining the amount of a com^plex term 
hy ennmfieration^ hy description^ or hy defi7iition^ em- 
ploy it cdioays in the same sense^ ivithoict adding to^ 
diminishing^ or changing the ideas it denotes. 

Ennmeration^ commonly called division bj logicians, 
is a recajntidation of the subordinate ideas of which a 
complex idea consists^ and forms a very satisfactory 
method of explaining or ascertaining that complex 
idea. 

For example, the term gratitude includes the folloAving subordi- 
nate ideas : a consciousness of favor received, a disposition to ac- 
knowledge it on every proper occasion, and a resolution to seize 
the first opportunity of returning a similar favor to the benefactor. 



DIVISION DESCRIPTION-. 43 

Honoi\ in like manner, includes an unalterable regard to truth, in 
words, humanity and generosity in actions, candor and forgiveness 
in thouglits, and resentment of insult or afii'ront. 

\pimuoii of a conception enumerates all the objects or classes 
that ;ire included under it, and so deals with the extent of the no- 
tion ; or it is the enumeration of the various co-ordinate species of 
which a proximate genus is composed. The rules for conducting 
the 2^rocess correctly are — 

(1.) The constituent species, called the dividing members, must 
exclude one another, 

(2.) The constituent species must be equal, together, to the ge- 
nus divided. 

(3.) The division must be made according to one principle or 
ground. 

The first rule is to secure that the classes and sub-classes shall be 
distinct from each other. Exceptions to this rule are often un- 
avoidable, especially in subjects that do not belong to strict sci- 
ence : thus, in enumerating the species of imaginative writers, one 
would probably mention poets, dramatists, and writers of tales; 
yet some pjoets arc dramatists, and some tales are poems. 

The second rule provides that no class shall be omitted, and se- 
cures completeness. 

The principle of division mentioned in the third rule, is some new 
conception, for the marks of which we seek in the conception to be 
divided. Thus man may be divided into European, African, Asi- 
atic, American, and Australian ; and again into Christian, Moliam- 
medan, Jew, and Pagan; and again into just and unjust. The 
separation of the parts of any individual object, as of a sword into 
blade and hilt, is termed ^:»arr^/f /<?;?.. An individual is that which 
cannot be divided without ceasing to be what it is : its parts can- 
not have the name of the whole. When a genus is divided, every 
part of it remains unchanged, and may have the name of the genus. 
The trunk and limbs of a man cannot be severally called a man ; 
but a European is a man, and an Asiatic, and an American. — 
Thomson.l 

Descri2Jtion^ also, is a sort of enumeration, but is ap- 
plicable chiefly to objects of sight. It is used often to 
distinguish objects of sight, which have not obtained 
names, or of which the names are unknown. We de- 
scribe a landscape, a river, a house, a town, a ship, a 



44. DEFINITION. 

horse, a tree, a robber, in order to communicate ideas 
of these objects to those who have not seen them, or to 
enable those to distinguish them when they do see 
them. Descriftion is a recajpitulation of the jparts or 
rprojperties of the object descrihed. 

A landscape, for instance, contains corn-fields, plantations, Avater 
running or stagnating, hills, houses, villages, animals, situate in such 
a manuer as diversify it from all other landscapes. The color, 
shape, strength, gentleness, fleetness, and easy motion, which con- - 
stitute the description of my horse, discriminate him from all other 
horses. A deserter, or a robber, is described by his stature, figure, 
complexion, features, and dress ; or, in other words, by a recital of 
the particulars which form his appearance, and which mark him 
out among other men. 

Definition is the last method of ascertaining complex 
ideas or general terms, and differs not essentially from 
the preceding methods. The chief difference is the use 
of it on different occasions. It maj be employed in fix- 
ing complex ideas of all sorts, whether their archetypes 
are objects of the external senses, or are the creatnres 
of reflection, that is, whether they exist in matter or in 
mind. It is nsed, however, chiefly to ascertain species, 
whose archetypes exist in the mind. A good definition 
consists of two parts ', by one part are marked those 
objects with which the thing defined has any common 
qualities; by the other part are marked those qualities 
which characterize the thing defined alone. Nothing 
more can be done to ascertain the nature of any object^ 
than to point out those objects with which it has any 
common qualities, and next to enumerate the qualities 
peculiar to itself. Hence the logical rule, that every 
definition"^ should consist of a genus and a specific dif 

[* As division ascertains the various classes of objects united under one 
conception, so does definition ascertain those common marks which all the 
objects possess, or that common nature represented by the conception. 



RULES OF DEFINITION. 45 

ference^ the genus denoting the common qualities^ and 
the specific difference the characteristic or peculiar 
ones. 

Suppose, for example, it were required to define what the "mathe- 
maticians call a square, or a parallelogram, these most accurate of 
all logicians will tell us, that " a square is a figure which has four 
equal sides, and four right angles," and that " a parallelogram is a 
figure that has four angles, and four sides, the opposite angles and 
sides only being eqnal." 

The things defined are species^ that is, the square and the paral- 
lelogram are not a square and parallelogram which exist in some 
book, or are delineated on a particular board ; they stand for the en- 
tire species of squares and parallelograms, and mark the properties 
common to all the individuals of these species. The first part of the 



The rules of definition may be stated, as a help to understanding the pro- 
cess itself. 

(1.) ^ definition mvst recount tJie essential attribvtes of tlie tiling defined. 
Thus, in definina: " words" as "the articulate signs of thoughts," we are 
not to introduce such a superfluous mark as " words are the articulate signs 
hy which an orator expresses his thoughts ;" for whilst this is true, it is not 
necessarily found in the conception in our mind, and consequently has no 
place in the act of analyzing it. 

(2.) The definition must not contain the name of the thing defined ; as this is 
precisely the word we are bound to explain. Thus, if " life" is defined to 
be "the sum of the vital functions," we have not logically defined "life," 
as the word "vital," which implies it, stands unexplained in the defi- 
nition. 

(3.) A definition must be precisely adequate to the species defined. If 
it explain a species below, it is said to be too narrow, as where " triangle" 
is defined " a rectilinear figure with three equal sides and angles." If it 
is applicable to the genus above, it is too wide, as when we define " words" 
as the " sign of thoughts," whereas there are other signs also. 

(4.) A definition must not be expressed in obscure, or figurative, or am- 
biguous languiige. The Divine Nature has been represented as " a circle 
whose centre is everywhere, and whose circumference is nowhere ;" but 
this bold figure cannot for a moment be accounted a definition. 

(5.) A definition must not be negative. "Evil is that which is not 
good." "A point is that which has no parts and no magnitude." These 
definitions are to be judged according to our view of the possibility of find- 
ing others of the positive form. Some conceptions are in their nature 
negative, as indivisibility, blindness, and must be defined negatively.— 
Thomson.^ 



4:Q DEFINITION EXAMPLES. 

definition refers them to their geniis^ or characterizes them by the 
name oi figures^ by which it is signified that they have something 
in common "with all other matliematical species, circles, triangles, 
rhombuses, ellipses, namely, they include space, and are bounded 
by lines. The second part of the definition exhibits their apecijic 
dijjerence^ or enumerates the 'peculiar properties which distinguish 
them from all the other species of the same genus ; squares have 
four right angles, and four equal sides ; parallelograms have also 
four angles and four sides, the opposite angles and sides only being 
equal, which no other species have but themselves. 

If I define eloquence to be the art of speaking or writing well, 
logic the art of reasoning well, statuary the art of forming an exact 
resemblance of the human shape in marble, painting the art of de- 
lineating a resemblance of the same shape on canvas by means of 
oil colors, I refer all these species to their genus, and mark proper- 
ties in which they all agree, namel}^, in being arts, or something 
acquired by industry and practice, and then I mention the proper- 
ties which distinguish these arts from all other arts, and from one 
another ; eloquence by speaking or writing well, logic by reasoning 
well, statuary by forming a resemblance of the human shape in 
marble, painting by delineating a similar resemblance on canvas. 

If, again, I define morality to be the science which teaches to be 
wise, virtuous, and happy; pohtics the science Avhich teaches to 
provide for the prosperity of communities, or large bodies of men; 
mathematics the science which teaches to compute quantity ; pneu- 
matics the science which teaches the properties of spirits, or the 
doctrine of fluids ; optics the science which teaches the theory of 
vision and colors : I refer, first, all these branches of knowledge to 
their next genus, science, by which I signify, that they all agree in 
presenting some useful truths to the mind, and that they are sup- 
ported by satisfactory evidence. In the second place, I distinguish 
each science from the rest, and from all other sciences not men- 
tioned, by specifying as above the particular truths which it incul- 
cates. 

Definition might certainly be employed to discrimi- 
nate complex ideas on every occasion, and might su- 
persede both enumeration and description ; but in all 
such cases, the specific difiference would become either 
an enumeration or a description. Indeed, there is no ma- 
terial diflerence between these methods of ascertaining 



SPECIFIC DIFFERENCE. 47 

ideas, except in the length of the specific difference. 
An enumeration, or a description, either includes or 
supposes a genus, to which the idea explained refers ; 
and the specifio difference of every definition is either 
mi enumeration or a desGrijjtion. 

For example, the enumeration formerly advanced, of the ideas 
expressed by the word honor ^ may easily be converted into a defi- 
nition, of which the specific difference will become the enumeration 
itself. "Honor is a disposition Avhich prompts us to regard truth 
in our words, generosity in our actions, candor in our thoughts, 
and to entertain resentment of insult or affront." In like manner, 
I may convert the description of a horse into a definition, of which 
the description will constitute the specific difference. I may call 
him an animal of a cylindrical body, long and taper legs, high 
neck, beautiful head, of a bay color, gentle temper, easy motion, 
and fit for riding. It is to be observed, however, when the spe- 
cific difference resolves itself into an enumeration, or a description, 
it is of little cousequence to distinguish the genus. On tlie other 
hand, when it is of consequence to distinguish the genus, the spe- 
cific difference seldom consists of more than one or two properties. 
Definition is always used in the last case, and enumeration or de- 
scription in the two first. Enumeration is commonly employed to 
explain complex ideas, of which it is of little consequence to men- 
tion the genus ; description, to ascertain complex ideas, the arche- 
types of which are objects of sight; and definition, to ascertain the 
abstract ideas of species. 

With 7'espect to definition^ it is proper further to ob- 
serve, that vje must never attempt to apply it to simple 
ideas^ because they are immediately derived from per- 
ception, prompted by the objects or operations which 
suggest them ; and no definition or explication can ren- 
der them more distinct or intelligible than they are. 
Even the mathematicians have not always been suffi- 
ciently attentive to this remark. 

The word ratio denotes the idea of equality or inequality, which 
results from the comparison of two magnitudes of the same kind 
in point of quantity ; as when one of the magnitudes is said to be 



4:8 SIMPLE IDEAS NOT TO BE DEFINED. 

equal to, greater or less than the other, or to hold to it some fixed 
proportion. The idea appears to be simple, at least no words can 
make it plainer than the actual comparison of the magnitudes by 
which it is prompted. Yet all the editions of Euclid I have seen, 
previous to tlie one published by Dr. Simpson of Glasgow, present 
definitions of it. "Ratio," we are told, " is a habitude of magni- 
tudes of the same kind, according to quantity," Habitude is a 
word at least as unintelligible as ratio ; yet it 'seems no plainer 
word could be found. The truth is, the definition should not have 
been attempted, and Simpson has accordingly expunged it. 

Motion is another simple idea, on which Aristotle, and the 
schoolmen after him, have exercised their ingenuity, and have pro- 
duced the following famous specimen of jargon. They tell us, that 
motion is " actus entis in potentia, quatenus in potentia," the act 
of a being in energy, as far as it is in energy. Even later and bet- 
ter philosophers, who^ define motion by " a passage from one place 
to another," do not make the matter much plainer. They only 
substitute one word for another, and it is diflScult to decide whe- 
ther motion is better explained by passage, or passage by motion. 

As, then, complex ideas only are susceptible of ex- 
plication in any of the ways I have mentioned, if we 
would preserve perspicuity, careful attention must be 
paid that the same meaning, thus settled, shall be in- 
variably retained. The determination of this point is 
simple and easy, and may always be accomplished by 
substituting the exjylication in the place of the term de- 
fined. If this be practicable, and the sense be pre- 
served, we may be confident we have not changed the 
meaning of the term. 

Before I relinquish this branch of the subject I must 
observe, that although, in compliance with the exam- 
ple of all logical writers, I have hitherto considered, 
and shall through the whole of this course continue to 
consider, all knowledge as composed of ideas, and shall 
call every impression made on the mind, whether de- 
rived from an external or an internal archetype, by this 
name ; yet that some late writers of eminence have 



DEFINITIONS OF NAMES AND OF THINGS. 49 

called these impressions bj other names than that of 
ideas. All impressions, then, prompted by archetypes, 
which have a real existence without the mind, they 
distinguish by the name of ■peroevtions. All impres- 
sions, of which the archetypes have no real existence, 
but are the creatures of the imagination, as a mountain 
of gold, a sea of milk, they denominate conceptions. 
Those impressions only they call ideas, which have 
been formerly received into the mind, and are again 
recalled by memory. You will find this explanation 
useful in reading some metaphysical, and even some 
critical writers ; but it is more convenient for our pur- 
pose to give the name of idea to every impression, 
whether simple or coihplex, and from whatever source 
it may be derived. 

[Definitions h&YQ heen divided into those of names and those of 
things : the former explain the meaning of a term, the latter the 
nature of a thing, the last being the most important. 

The distinction between nominal and real definitions, between 
definitions of words and what are called definitions of things, 
though' conformable to the ideas of most of the Aristotelian logi- 
cians, cannot be maintained. We apprehend that no definition is 
ever intended to " explain and unfold the nature of the thing." 
No definition can unfold its whole nature; and every proposition 
in which any quality whatever is predicated of the thing, unfolds 
some part of its nature. 

The true state of the case we take to be this. All definitions are 
of names and of names only : but in some definitions it is clearly 
apparent, that nothing is intended except to explain the meaning 
of the word ; while in others, besides explaining the meaning of the 
word, it is intended to be implied that there exists a thing corre- 
sponding to the word. Whether this be or be not implied in any 
given case, cannot be collected from the mere form of the expres- 
sion. " A centaur is an animal, with the upper parts of a man 
and the lower parts of a horse," and " A triangle is a rectilineal 
figure with tliree sides," are, in form, expressions precisely sinrilar; 
although in the former it is not implied that any tiling^ coufor ma- 
able to the term, really exists, while in the latter it is, as may be 



50 DEFINITION AND POSTULATE. 

seen by substituting in botli definitions the word means for is. In 
the first expression, ''A centaur means an animal, &c.," the sense 
would remain unchanged: in the second, " A triangle means, &c.," 
the meaning would be altered, since it would be obviously impos- 
sible to deduce any of the truths of geometry from a, proposition 
expressive only of the manner in which we intend to employ a par- 
ticular sign. 

There are, therefore, expressions, commonly passing for defini- 
tions, which include in themselves more than the mere explanation 
of the meaning of a term. But it is not correct to call an expres- 
sion of this sort a peculiar kind of definition. Its difference from, 
the other kind consists in this — that it is not a definition, but a 
definition and something more. The definition above given of a 
triangle, obviously comprises not one but two propositions, perfect-- 
ly distinguishable. The one is, " There may exist a figure, bound- 
ed by three straight lines:" the other, '.'And this figure may be 
termed a triangle." ♦The former of these propositions is not a defi- 
nition at all : the latter is a mere nominal definition, or explanation 
of the use and apphcation of a term. The first is susceptible of 
truth or falsehood, and may therefore be made the foundation of a 
train of reasoning. The latter can neither be true nor false : the 
only character it is susceptible of, is that of conformity or discon- 
formity to the ordinary usage of language. 

There is a real distinction, then, between definitions of names 
and what are erroneously called definitions of things ; but it is, 
that the latter, along with the meaning of a name, covertly asserts 
a matter of fact. This covert assertion is not a definition, but a 
postulate. The definition is a mere identical proposition, which 
gives information only about the use of language, and from which 
no conclusions affecting matters of fact can possibly be drawn. 
The accompanying postulate, on the other hand, afiirms a fact, 
which may. lead to consequences of every degree of importance. 
It affirms the real existence of things possessing the combination of 
attributes set forth in the definition ; and this, if true, may be a 
foundation sufficient on which to build a whole fabric of scientific 
ivuih.—MilU Logic^ pp. 98, .99.] 



INVESTIGATION OF TEUTH AND KNOWLEDGE. 51 



LECTURE IV. 

KNOWLEDGE AND TRUTH, WHAT ? THE RESULT OF INTUITION OR 

OF REASONING DIFFERENT KINDS OF PROPOSITIONS SOUR- 
CES WHENCE DERIVED. 

In former lectures I have considered ideas as simple, 
as complex, distinct or confused, adequate or inade- 
quate, particular or abstract ; and I have illustrated at 
considerable length the pains we mi;st take, and the 
rules we must follow, in order to have them in the most 
perfect state, and to obtain over them the most comr 
plete command. All, however, I have hitherto ad- 
vanced, is a mere preparation of the materials of logic ; 
we have not yet taken the least step towards applying 
them to any use in the investigation of truth and knowl- 
edge. To this application I am now to proceed. 

The investigation of truth and Jcnowledge consists of 
two operations. The first compares two ideas, in order 
to perceive in them agreement or disagreement; the- 
second compares two ideas, by the help of one or more 
intermediate ideas. The truth or knowledge acquired 
by the first operation is said^to result iYOvn jiigynent ;^ 
the truth or knowledge acquired by the second opera- 
tion is said to result from reasoning. I begin with 



[■*It is hardly necessary to remark, that judgment enters as an element 
into almost all our mental acts. We think in judgments ; that is, we are 
always affirming one thing of another, and we do not consider any thing 
else to be thinking. To conceive of things without forming judgments, is 
to make no progress. We can only be said to think when we form a judg- 
ment respecting two conceptions, in which one is affirmed of the other.— 
Dr. Waylund.] 



52 KNOWLEDGE TRUTH. 

judgment, and the truth and knowledge which are at- 
tainable by its means. 

Two preliminary questions occur: v^hat is knowl- 
edge? and, what is truth? We are familiarized with 
these words, and we are not disposed to suspect there 
is any mystery in their meaning. But it is not, per- 
haps, so obvious ag is generally supposed ; and it is of 
so much im]3ortance in our present inquiries, that we 
must not proceed without attempting to ascertain it. 
Knowledge^ then, I assert, is the perception of the 
agreement of ideas w^ith one another; trutli^ is the 
agreement of ideas with words. But what, it will again 
be asked, perhaps, is the signification of these words, 
agreement and disagreement f I reply, 'that the signifi- 
cation of these words is not always the same, but varies 
according to the nature of the science, art, or subject, 
about which the ideas are conversant. A few examples 
will be the best illusti-ation. 

In arithmetic and mathematics, the only comparison of ideas 
which can take place relates to the equality or inequality of the 
quantities; agreement denotes equality — disagreement, inequality. 
When I compare the quantities four and five, I perceive that they 
are unequal, or that the ideas of them disagree. I perceive further, 
if I add one to four, that these two together will form a compound 
quantity, which will be exactly equal to five, or that the ideas four 
and one conjoined will agree with the idea five. My knowledge, 
tlien, that four is not equal to five, hut that four and one are equal 
to five, is the intuitive perception I have that the idea of four disa- 
grees with the idea of five, while the idea of four and one together 
agrees with the idea of five. 

In like manner, from the ideas I have of a right angle, or half a 
right angle, or from the ideas I have of an acre, and half an acre, 
I know certainly that the half right angle disagrees with, or is a less 
quantity than the whole right angle — that the half acre disagrees 
with, or is a less quantity than the whole acre; and that if I double 
the half right angle and the half acre, I shall form two compound 
quantities, the ideas of which will agree respectively with those of 



KNOWLEDGE — CERTArN- OR PROBABLE. 63 

the whole right angle and the whole acre. The perception of the 
agreement or disagreement of ideas, in all these cases, is the same 
thing with the knowledge of the equality or inequality of the quan- 
tities compared. 

If, in natural philosophy, I compare bodj'- or matter with divisi- 
bility, I immediately discover that divisibility applies to, or is a 
pro])erty of, matter ; in other words, I find that the ideas of matter 
and divisibility agree together, and I know that matter is divisible. 
Agreement, in this case, signifies property or relation, not equality, 
as in the preceding cases. If I maintain, in morals, that a good 
man is happy ; or in politics, that a wise king is a blessing to his 
people ; or in arts, that industry is commonly attended with suc- 
cess, my knowledge of all these maxims is perfectly the same thing 
with the agreement I perceive between the ideas of a good man 
and happiness, of a wise king and the happiness of his people, of 
industry and the acquisition of wealth. 

Truth relates to the enunciation of knowledge, and 
is the agreement of ideas with words. If I assert that 
the British is a free government, and that the English 
are more industrious than any other nation in Europe, 
I maintain truth, because my words actually correspond 
to accurate ideas of the facts. If, again, I say that the 
three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles, 
I express a truth, because it is demonstrable that my 
words and ideas agree. Falsehood, on the other hand, 
is the disagreement of words with ideas [i. e., with ac- 
curate ideas of the facts of the case] ; as when it is 
asserted that the British government is despotic, or 
that the three angles of a triangle are equal to three 
right angles. A mistake, is the actual disagreement of 
words with ideas, when we suppose that they agree. 
The ignominious falsehood called a lie, is the disa- 
greement of words with ideas, uttered with an intention 
to deceive. 

Knowledge^ further, is of two Icinds^ certain and' proh- 
aUe. Certain knowledge takes place when the mind is 
perfectly satisfied of the agreement or disagreement of 



54 PKOPOSITIOXS FOUNDED ON INTUITION. 

its ideas * Probable knowledge takes place when the 
agreement or disagreement of ideas is not so clear as to 
aiford- perfect satisfaction, and the degrees of proba- 
bility are greater or less, according as the satisfaction is 
more or less perfect. 

In judging of the agreement or disagreement of ideas, 
we must examine them in pairs, and the words in which 
we express that judgment form a sentence, called a 
proposition. For exam]3le, if the idea of a whole be 
compared wdth the idea of a part, it is immediately 
found that they disagree ; and this judgment is ex- 
pressed by the following proposition: "The whole is 
greater than any of its parts." But, if the idea of the 
wdiole be compared with the idea of all its parts taken 
together, it is found that they agree; and this judg- 
ment is exjDressed by the following proposition : " The 
whole is equal to all its parts taken together." 

If the agreevie7it or disagreement he perceived hy hare 
juxtaposition of the ideas^ vnthout the intervention of 
any intermediate idea^ the evidence of the proposition 
is said to he intuitive. JBut^ if the agreement or disor 
greement he perceived hy means of some intermediate 
idea^ or train of ideas ^ the Qnind then must proceed hy 
steps. It must compare the first idea of the proposition 
with the first intermediate idea, and pass a judgment 
on their agreement or disagreement. It must next com- 
pare the first intermediate idea with the second inter- 

[* Knowledge is a clear and certain conception of that wiiicli is true, and 
implies three tilings : firm belief— of what is true— on sufficient grounds. 

Our knowledge is of two kinds : pf facts, and of truths. A fact is any 
thing that has been, or is. We derive our knowledge of facts through the 
medium of the senses. 

Truth is an exact accordance with what lias leen^ is, or sMU ie. There 
are two methods of ascertaining truth : (1) by comparing known facts with 
ea^li otlier; (2) by comparing known truths with each other. Hence, 
truths are inferences, either from facts or other truths.— Z^a^i^s' Zotjic of 
Mathematics.] 



PROPOSITIONS — FOUNDED ON REASONING. 65 

mediate idea, and pass a similar judgment. It must 
proceed, in like manner, through all the intermediate 
ideas, and pass similar judgments, till it comes to com- 
pare the last intermediate idea with the latter idea of 
the proposition ; and from all these intermediate judg- 
ments' the conclusive judgment is deduced, concerning 
the agreement or disagreement of the two primary ideas 
of the proposition. In this case the evidence of the 
proposition, declarative of the agreement or disagree- 
ment of the two primary ideas, is said to be founded 
on reasoning. 

Hence it appears that all knowledge, whether it be 
the ofi'spring of intuition or the result of reasoning, is 
denoted by propositions, which express the agreement 
or disagreement of ideas ; that each proposition con- 
tains two ideas, simple or complex, besides the assertion 
of agreement or disagreement ; and that the proposition 
which denotes agreement may be called affirmative, 
that which denotes disagreement may be called, nega- 
tive. " That the three angles of a triangle are equal to 
two right angles," is an affirmative proposition ; " that 
a part is not equal to the whole," is a negative one. 

The two capital ideas constitute two parts of a propo- 
sition. The first idea, or sometimes several ideas con- 
sidered as one, is that of which something is affirmed 
or denied, and is therefore called the subject of the 
proposition ; the second idea, or sometimes several ideas 
considered as one, is the property, or quality, or attri- 
bute, which is either affirmed or denied to belong to, 
or to agree with, the first idea, and is therefore called 
the jy^'^dicate of the proposition. "The three angles of 
a triangle are equal to two right angles," is a proposi- 
tion, of which the idea of the three angles forms the 
subject, and the idea of equality to two right angles 
forms the predicate. The affirmation contained in the 



56 SUBJECT PREDICATE COPULA. 

word are is commonlj called by logicians the copula or 

connective of the proposition.^' 

[Mr. Thomson more briefly thus defines these several parts of a 
proposition or judgment : 

Every judgment has three parts: the subject, or notion about 
which the judgment is ; the predicate, or notion with which the 
subject is. compared ; and the copula, or nexus, which expresses the 
mode of connection between them. The subject and predicate are 
called the terms of the judgment, i. e,, the extremes or boundaries 
(termini) which it brings together.] 

[The subject (Dr.Wayland remarks) may be either 
an indiyidiial or a species,- — the predicate must be a 
gemis ; that is, it must designate a larger class than 
the subject. In a proposition, we therefore affirm that 
a particular individual is included within a particular 

[* The copula is the sign denoting that there is an affirmation or denial, 
and thereby enabling the hearer or reader to distinguish a proposition from 
any other kind of discourse. Thus, in the proposition, " The earth is round," 
the predicate is tlie word round, which denotes the quality affirmed, or (as 
the phrase is) predicated ; the earth, words denoting the object which that 
quality is affirmed of, compose the subject; the word is, which serves as 
the connecting mark between the subject and predicate, to show that one 
of them is affirmed of the other, is called tlie copula. 

A predication is sometimes distinguished from every other kind of dis- 
course, by a slight alteration in one of the words, called an inflection ; as 
when we say. Fire burns ; the change of the second word from burn to 
'burns, showing that we mean to affirm the predicate turn of tlie subject 
fire. But this function is more commonly fulfilled by the word is, when an 
affirmation is intended; is not, when a negative ; or by some other part of 
the verb to he. 

It is apt to be supposed that the copula is much more than a mere sign 
of predication ; that it also signifies existence. In the proposition, "Soc- 
rates is just," it may seem to be implied that not only the cin^Yilj just can 
be affirmed of Socrates, but moreover tliat Socrates is, that is to say, exists. 
This, however, only shows that there is an ambiguity in the word is ; a word 
which not only performs the function of the copula in affirmations, but has 
also a meaning of its own, in virtue of which it may itself be made the 
predicate of a proposition. That the employment of it as a copula does 
not necessarily include the affirmation of existence, appears from such a 
proposition as this, "A centaur is a fiction of the poets ;" where it cannot pos- 
sibly be implied that a centaur exists, since the proposition itself expressly 
asserts that the thing has no real existence.— ifi^^s' Logic, pp. 12, 53.] 



DIFFERENT KINDS OF PROPOSITIONS. 57 

class. Hence eveiy proposition must be either true or 
false. The subject is either included within the class 
designated by the predicate, or it is not. It cannot be 
neither within nor without it.] 

[Judgments (or propositions), according to the com- 
mon account of relation, are divided into three chisses : 
the categorical^ the hyjpothetical^ and the dmjunctive. 

The categorical judgment is one in which one con- 
ception is affirmed to belong or not to -belong to another, 
as, " Men are endowed with conscience ;" ^' An enslaved 
people cannot be happy." 

The hypothetical expresses seemingly a relation l)e- 
tween two judgments, as cause and effect, as condition 
and conditioned ; for example, " If the autumn is very 
dry, the turnip crop is scanty ;" " If the heart is right, 
so will the actions be." 

The disjunctive judgment expresses the relation (ay)- 
parently) of two or more judgments which cannot be 
true together, and one or other of whicli must be 
true ; as, " Either the Bible is false, or holiness onglit 
to be followed ;" or the proverb, " A man is either a 
fool or a physician at forty." — Thomson?^ 

Propositioii'i^ furtJie7'^ are distinguished l)y different 
names ^ ac^cord.ing to the clearness of the evidt^nce ly 
which the agreement or disagreement of the suhject and. 
jpredicate is evinced. If the evidence be perfectly sat- 
isfactory, the proposition is denominated certain. If 
the evidence be not perfectly satisfactory, it is denom'- 
\i2XQ^ jprobctble / and it is more or less probable, accord- 
ing as the evidence is more or less satisfactory. If the 
evidence for the agreement of the subject and predicate 
balance the evidence for their disagreement, the propo- 
sition is called doid)tful. If the evidence be stronger 
on the side of disagreement, it gets the name of in-i- 
frdbahle ; and the improbability will be the greater, as 



58 DIFFERENT KINDS OF PROPOSITIONS. 

the evider.ce of disagreement shall increase. If the 
proposition bear an afiirmation contrary to [accurate] 
ideas, it obtains the name oi false. If the affirmation 
be conformable to [such] ideas, it is denominated true. 

Propositions.^ also, are divided into universal^ par- 
ticular.^ singular., and indefinite. A proposition is 
universal.^ when the subject of it comprehends an en- 
tire genus or species. Thus, " All animals are endowed 
with life and organization," is a universal proposition, 
because the subject of it includes, and the predicate ap- 
plies to, all living creatures, or to a whole genus. " All 
men are liable to err," is another universal proposition, 
because the subject includes, and the predicate applies 
to, a whole species, or every individual of the human 
race. A ^;>^/'^^?V?^Zar proposition denotes a limited or 
partial meaning of the subject, or signifies that it does 
not include an entire genus or species ; and, in this 
case, the restricting words, some, few .^ many.^ (fee, usu- 
.ally precede tlie subject of the proposition. For exam- 
ple : " Few men spend, all their time to the best advan- 
tage ;" " Many men reiDent of their folly when it is too 
late ;" are both particular ^propositions, because they 
include a part only of the human species to which they 
refer. 

A singular pn^oposition has an individual for its sub- 
ject; as when we say, " Alexander- conquered Persia;" 
" Caesar was assassinated in the senate-house." An in- 
definite proposition relates to one individual among 
many, and is commonly introduced by the indefinite 
article : "A wise man guides his affairs with discre- 
tion ;" " A fool is perpetually betraying his ignorance 
and impudence." Propositions likewise are denomi- 
nated conditional.^ when they express condition or de- 
pendence, " If people break the laws, they will be pun- 
ished ;" or relative.^ if they denote consequence or con- 



PEOPOSITIONS, EXPRESSIVE OF KELATIONS. 59 

nection, "Though he fall, yet will he rise again." But 
distinctions of this kind seem to belong more to gram- 
mar than to logic. 

[Propositions are nothing more than expressions of relations of 
one kind or another which we have previously recognized : there 
are the relations ofj^osition^ resemblance or difference^ proportion^ 
degree^ and compreliension. 

I judge that A is actually higher than B, though at first sight it 
might appear to be lower ; i. e., I recognize the relation of position 
which they bear to each other. I judge that this picture resembles 
my friend, in certain respects, and that it is entirely unlike him in 
others ; i. e., I am impressed with the relations of resemblance and 
dissimilarity, w^hich exist between the picture and my friend. I 
judge that two is to four, as this latter number is to eight ; i. e., I 
feel the relation of proportion which the numbers bear to one 
another. I judge that a house consists of its foundation, roof, differ- 
ent apartments, &c. ; i. e., I feel the relation of these parts to one com- 
prehensive whole. A mental judgment is a mere feehng or notion 
of relation ; and when utterance is given to it by words, it becomes 
a proposition. Two are the half of four. The words embody a 
recognized relation between two and four. 

The relation of compreliension is that, the recognition of which 
is usually, at least, involved in wdiat we call an act of reasoning. 
Dr. BroAvn thinks that all these various relations may be resolved 
into the single relation of comprehension, or the relation of a whole 
to the separate parts included under it. It is not necessary, how- 
ever, to push our analysis so far. A whole may be regarded by us 
as made up of parts^ which admit of actual separation from each 
other — as in the case of a book, and its covers and leaves ; or of 
qualities which have no independent existence — as when we say of 
gold, it is ductile, yellow, &c. " A flake of snow," says Dr. Brown, 
" is composed of particles of snow which exist separately ; and this 
composition of separate particles in seeming coherence, is one spe- 
cies of totality. But the same snow, without any integral division, 
may be considered by us as possessing various qualities, which qual- 
ities are part of our complex notion of snow, as a substance." It 
is the faculty of recognizing relations which enables us to feel that 
the flake comprehends the particles of which it is composed, and 
that our general notion of snow comprehends a notion of the various 
properties which it possesses. 



60 VARI0I5S SOUECES OF PEOPOSITIONS. 

An affirmative proposition of this kind is, then, bailt npon a pre- 
vious! j-felt relation of comprehension ; since it enumerates or predi- 
cates some quality or attribute of a subject, which may be said to 
form a part of the subject itself, and the notion of which is a con- 
stituent of our complex conception of the subject. The one quality 
of which we speak is comprehended, and felt to be so, with other 
qualities, in tliat general aggregate to which our state is to belong. 
" Gold is ductile ;" i. e., our complex conception of gold compre- 
hends the particular notion of ductility. Every affirmative propo- 
sition, then, of this kind, involves a mental anal3^sis of a complex 
notion. Our notion of snow is complex ; i. e., it is as if it were 
made up of the conceptions of the individual qualities which it pos- 
sesses. We cannot, accordingly, affirm snow to be white, till, by a 
process of mental analysis, we have ascertained that whiteness is a 
constituent part of our conception of snow ; though the proposition 
itself reunites this elementary part to the complex notion again. — 
Fayneh El. Mental Science. 

The application of these remarks to the subject of Eeasoning, 
will be found in a note at the end of Lecfc. viii.] 

Propositions sometimes receive different names.^ ac- 
cording to the 'kinds of evidence hy vjJiich they are 
supported. The cliief of these kinds are, sensation^ 
consciousness^ intuition^ reasoning.^ and testimony. It 
is of consequence to consider propositions with regard 
to these kinds of evidence, because they lead us to the 
capital sources of human knowledge. 

Thousands of propositions^ and much useful knowl- 
edge, are derived from the external senses and feelings. 
By these we are made acquainted with all the objects 
in nature, which can contribute either to use or to pleas- 
ure ; and of all the propositions derived from the testi- 
mony of these senses and feelings, we never, in the 
intercourse of life, presume to entertain the slightest 
doubt. We believe that the city, the house, the man, 
the horse, the tree, the fish v/e behold, really exist, and 
jiossess those properties or qualities which we perceive 
to belong to them. We never hesitate whether the 



PKOPOSITIOJS^S DKKIVED FKOM SENSATION. 61 

propositions containing the result of oiir perceptions re- 
specting them are true. We hesitate as little about 
propositions significant of the realit}^ of onr bodily feel- 
ings, and of onr desires to gratify them ; such as, that 
hunger, thirst, pain, are uneasy sensations, from which 
all men wish to be relieved, and that rest after fatigue 
is a source of pleasure. In all these cases, no means of 
conviction are presented to the mind, besides percep- 
tions and feelings. The knowledge, accordingly, derived 
from this source, is often called the dictates of sense ; 
and the sentences that denote it are sometimes termed 
sensible propositions. 

I have observed, that no man, in mixing with the world, or 
when engaged in business, can permit himself one moment to dis- 
credit the evidence of his senses, or to disbelieve the information 
he receives through that channel. Some philosophers, however, 
in speculation, have ventured to question the credibility of this evi- 
dence, and have not scrupled to conclude, that from any thing we 
know, all the splendid exhibitions of nature and art, with which 
the world abounds, may be no more than phantoms of the imagi- 
nation, a magnificent display of ideal scenery without reahty. 
They have appUed a similar theory to the evidence of internal sen- 
sation or consciousness, and, finding it equally unworthy of credit, 
they have ventured to annihilate the immaterial world also ; and 
thus, banishing both matter and spirit from the universe, they have 
left in nature nothing of real existence but ideas and imaginary 
powers to prompt these ideas. A philosophy so bold and tremen- 
dous in its consequences, cannot fail to excite a little our curi- 
osity ; and as it has subsisted long in the world, and has attracted 
a good deal of attention, some account of it may be expected.* 

[* The account, given by the author, of the speculations of Aristotle, 
Epicurus, Locke, Hume, and others, is here omitted, as belonging more 
appropriately to a general work on mental science. — Ud.'] 



62 PROPOSITIONS DEBITED FBOM CONSCIOUSNESS. 



LECTURE V. 

propositions derived from consciousness, intuition, rea- 
soning, testimony inference or reasoning in general 

— prejudices: 

Consciousness is a copious source of knowledge, and 
furnishes evidence of the truth of a numerous class of 
projyositions. By it we gain an acquaintance with the 
human constitution, particularly with the important 
operations of the understanding, the imagination, and 
the passions. If I affirm that the imagination is 
pleased with a fine j)rospect, a beautiful landscape, an 
elegant exhibition of art, whether in writing, j)ainting, 
statuary, or architecture ; if I assert that the under- 
standing is delighted with the discovery of truth on all 
subjects, and in all degrees, from the lowest stage of 
probability to the most triumphant evidence of intuition 
or demonstration ; if I maintain that all our passions 
were given us for wise and good purposes ; that all the 
gratifications of them, within the limits prescribed by 
reason and virtue, are pleasant, salutary, and commend- 
able ; and that all irregular gratifications are not only 
improper in themselves, but are also painful and de- 
structive ; I have hardly any proof to produce of the 
numerous propositions, which express the various cases 
into which these views of the human mind may be re- 
solved, except an appeal to the consciousness of the 
person I wish to convince. 

If he shall deny that his imagination is captivated with a beauti- 
ful scene of nature or art ; if he shall declare that his understand- 
ing receives no pleasure in the discovery of truth ; or that the 
gratification of a regular passion yields him no joy, while the agi- 



PEOPOSITIONS SUPPORTED BY COITSCIOUSNESS. 63 

tation of an irregular one fills him with satisfaction ; all I can urge 
is, tliat he mistakes his constitution, or that the structure of it is 
different from that of most other men. But if he persists in main- 
taining the consciousness of the truth of what he asserts, I can 
only oppose a contrary consciousness on my part. We must con- 
tinue of diiferent opinions, for I can produce no arguments to per- 
suade him to adopt my sentiments. ^ 

• From tills view of knowledge it wall appea", that 
many moral and political propositions, many which 
comrannicate truth in oratory, poetry, criticism, and 
business, are principally, if not entirely, supported by 
consciousness. 

If I assert that all men applaud a generous or a grateful action, 
and detest an unjust or a cruel one ; that kings are prone to tyran- 
nize over their subjects, or that the people are disposed to insult 
and oppose their rulers ; that the beauties of eloquence and poetry 
are felt by all mankind, even the most unpolished and unlearned; 
that the rules of criticism are nothing more than the theories of 
emotions and passions ; that prudence and industry are the best 
and surest means of attaining success in business, while folly and 
idleness are commonly attended with misfortune and contempt ; 
what do I but appeal to consciousness concerning the truth of the 
propositions I advance ? If I gain not immediate assent, all I can 
do to procure it is, to enumerate examples by which the opinions 
I maintain have been verified, and to hold forth these as documents 
of general consciousness in support of the judgment I have formed. 
In a word, in all these subjects the most satisfactory evidence and 
the best theories are founded on the nature of the human constitu- 
tion. The most sagacious and successful moralists, politicians, 
critics, and observers of human affairs, ground their maxims and 
their observations on the qualities of the mind, of which they are 
conscious themselves, or of which they discover that others are 
conscious. 

Intuition is another copious som^ce of knowledge, 
and cominunicates conviction of the truth of all tJiose 
j)Topositions which are clenominaied self-evident. In- 
tuition is the perception of the agreement or disagree- 
inent of two ideas on bare juxtaposition, without the 



64 INTUITIVE rROrOSITIONS. 

intervention of any third idea ; and the proposition 
which expresses our judgment of that agreement or dis- 
agreement is said to be supported by intuitive evi- 
dence.'^' All the axioms of mathematics and arith- 
metic, as, " Two straight lines cannot contain a space," 
"Things equal to the same thing are equal to one an- 
other," "Two and three are equal to five," "Two and 
three are not equal to six;" all the principles adopted 
in 23hysical science, as, " A body cannot be in two j^laces 
at the same time," " I^o thing can produce nothing," 
"It is impossible for the same thing to be and not to 
be ;" all the maxims relative to identity, as, " Matter 
is matter," and " Spirit is spirit ;" form intuitive pi'opo- 
sitions. All certain reasoning, commonly called de- 
monstration, must begin with a comparison of two 
ideas expressed by an intuitive proposition ; and every 
proposition expressive of the agreement of any two in- 
termediate ideas, or of every successive step of the de- 
monstration, must be intuitive. These are the chief 
cases of intuitive truth. I must, however, observe, be- 
fore I leave this topic, that axioms^ of wh.ch some 
philosophers seem to be so fond, and which they hold 
forth as the foundations of all science, appt^ar so far 

[* Truths are known to us in two ways : some are known directly, and 
of themt^elves ; some tliraugh tlie medium of other truths. The furmer 
are the t^ubjects of intuition; the hxtter, of inference. The trutlis Ivuown 
by intuition are tlie original preinises from which all others are inferred. 
Our assent to the conclusion being grounded upon the truth of the premi- 
ses, we never could arrive at any l^nowledge by reasoiiing, unless some- 
thing could be known antecedently to all reasoning. 

The object of logic is to ascertain how we come by that portion of our 
knowledge (much the greatest portion) which is not intuitive ; and by 
what criterion we can, in matters not self-evident, distinguish between 
things proved and things not proved, between what is worthy and what is 
unworthy of belief. Of the various questions which the universe presents 
to our inquiring faculties, some are soluble by direct consciousness, others 
only by means of evidence. Logic is concerned with these last. — Mills* 
Zogic, pp. 3, 12.] 



INUTILITY OF AXIOMS IN REASONING. 65 

from being such., that no reasoning is ever founded on 
them, and that they are of no essential use in a course 
of reasoning. What is an axiom? It is a general 
proposition, including a number of particular cases, 
and declarative of an intuitive truth, which truth must 
be as obvious, when surveyed in any of the particular 
cases, as in the general proposition ; and, if this be 
true, the axiom cannot be of any use, for the applica- 
tion of it to the particular ca?e can afford no light which 
the mind did not possess before that -application. I 
shall illustrate this remark by a few examples, which 
will make it very plain. 

If I say that two and three are equal to four and one, I am per- 
fectly satisfied of the equality of these two quantities, before the 
apphcation of the axiom, that " Things equal to the same thing 
are equal to one another," and before I add, that they are both 
equal to five. The axiom adds no light to my conceptions. It 
does no more than repeat, in general terms, what was expressed 
more simply, if not more intelligibly, in particular terms. If from 
two hues, each a mile long, I take away respectively a half 
mile, I cannot question a moment, that the remaining hah' miles 
are equal to one another, although I had never heard of the axiom, 
"If equals are taken from equals, ,the remainders will be equal." 
If from a field of an acre in extent, I take away half an acre, and 
throw it into an adjacent field, I have the most- entire conviction 
that the extent of the first field will be much less than it was be- 
fore the division, without having recourse to the axiom, " The 
w^hole is greater than a part." If I infer that something must 
have existed from eternity, because something now exists, my con- 
viction is complete, before I reflect on, or perhaps know, the scho- 
lastic maxim, "Exnlhilo nihil fit," "Nothing can produce noth- 
ing." If I am certain that the sun is above the horizon, I con- 
clude with entire confidence, that he Is not also .below It, although 
I am unacquainted with the axiom, " Bodies cannot be in different 
places at the same time." If, having two lines, one half a mile, 
and the other a quarter of a mile long, I add to each a whole mile, 
I am perfectly satisfied that the new line, composed of the mile and 
half, is longer than that composed of the mile and the quarter. I 
procure no additional conviction whatever from the application of 



66 INUTILITY OF AXIOMS IN REASONING. 

the axiom, " If equals be added to imeqiials, the wholes will he un- 
equal," 

What judgment, then, sliall we liold concerning these 
axioms, which have made so much noise in the workl, 
which have been considered as the fomidations of 
science, the dictates of common sense, the first princi- 
ples of knowledge, and of which even the mathemati- 
cians, the most accurate of all logicians, appear to be so 
fond ? "We cannot hesitate, I think, to admit, though 
they supply the appearance of sagacity and attention, 
yet that they are of little importance in reasoning, and 
that from them no useful truth can be derived. From 
all the exaniples I have produced, it is apparent that 
they are general expressions of truths, which are at 
least as obvious in the particular cases included under 
these general expressions. Of what service, then, can 
they be, unless they should help us to discover new 
particular cases, with which we were formerly unac- 
quainted ? But this service they cannot perform, for the 
axiom is not applicable till we have found, by other 
means than by its aid, that under it is comprehended 
the particular case. 

Neither are they of any use to silence skeptics or 
perverse reasoners, who may be disposed to controvert 
the plainest truths. 

Suppose, for example, I should be told that four and two are not 
equal to five and one, though both are equal to six, and that I 
might silence such an absurd reasoner by the lielp of the axiom, 
"Things equal to the same thing, are equal to one another;" how 
should this axiom silence him ? Does it furnish any new evidence? 
No ! Have I given any proof of it ? IS^o ; it needs none. Why, 
then, is he bound to believe it ? because he gave his assent to it on 
learning mathematics, and all men admit it to be true. But might 
he not have withheld his assent in learning mathematics, as well as 
now, since no proof was then pretended to be given? Do not all 
men assent as readily, that four and two are equal to fi-v e and one, 



INUTILITY OF AXIOMS IN EEASONmG. 67 

as they do to the axiom, " Things equal to the same thing, are 
equal to one another?" The axiom has no evidence to command 
assent, which every case included in it has not ; and if any reason- 
er be so absurd as to controvert either the axiom or the case,' he 
should be permitted to remain in error, as unworthy or incapable 
of conviction. The fair inquirer has then reached the true princi- 
ples of argumentation, not axioms, but the perception of the agree- 
ment of ideas, and he must remain satisfied, for the nature of 
things and the faculties of the human mind admit no higher evi- 
dence. 

That axioms are supeidluous, even in mathematical 
reasoning, seems to be obvious from the manner in 
which Euclid himself sometimes employs them. He 
generally mentions them when the cases they include 
occur, but he sometimes reasons without them. He 
adopts some propositions as axioms, while he rejects or 
neglects others equally important, and equally entitled 
to attention. 

I shall produce a curious example of his practice in this article, 
which I believe has not been , commonly observed. He proposes, 
as axioms, that "Tilings, doubles or halves of the same thing, are 
equal." JSTobody can- doubt their truth, but why did he not in- 
form us that he migFit projjose many more axioms of the same 
sort? that "Things triple, quadruple, ten times, a hundred times, 
any number of times the same thing, are equal to one another;" 
which are equally true, if not equally necessary, with those he has 
thought proper to specify. He should at least have introduced one 
more of these axioms, namely, that things quadruple of the same 
thing are equal, because without it, if axioms are necessary in 
mathematical reasonings, one of his demonstrations is inconclusive 
and incomplete. 

Tlie demonstration to which I allude is found in the eighth pro- 
position of the second book of the Elements, where he infers that 
two quantities are equal, because each of them is quadruple of a 
third quantity, though he has produced no axiom which holds 
forth this truth. Euclid cannot be defended by maintaining that 
the equality of all quantities, equimultiples of the same quantity, 
is implied in the axioms which assert, that "Things, doubles or 
halves of the same things, are equal ;" because the truth which, 



68 PKOPOSITIONS SUPPORTED BY REASONING. 

in the proposition quoted, he assumes without an axiom, is not 
more evident tiian the truths are, to Avhich he has applied axioms. 
Besides, the accuracy of nxathematical reasoning and expression 
certain]}^ required that Euclid should have said so, if he intended 
to include the equality of all equimultiples of the same quantity in 
that of the halves or doubles of it. The better account of the mat- 
ter seems to be, if an axiom was unnecessary in one of these cases, 
it was equally so in any other ; but that, as the cases of the equal- 
ity of the doubles and halves of the same quantities frequently oc- 
curred, they had the good fortune to be honored with axioms to 
support them ; though the conviction of the mind, and the legiti- 
macy of the demonstration, were as complete without them as with 
them. 

Reasoning supjports an exceedingly numerous class 
of propositions^ more liiimerons, I believe, than all the 
other kinds of evidence put together. But I mean not 
now to discuss the nature of it, nor to explain the dif- 
ferent degrees of evidence it supplies. That task be- 
longs to the third part of this course, and it is not my 
intention to anticipate it. I mean to mention here 
only the extent of these propositions, or the various 
branches of knowledge which it is the purpose of rea- 
soning to establish and support. Almost all the pro]30- 
sitions, then, of science, most of those of the arts and 
of business, in a word, those of all cases in which the 
mind receives either certain or probable conviction by 
the exercise of its rational faculties, belong to this class. 
It is not easy to explain the natiu-e of these proposi- 
tions without discussing the different kinds of evidence 
by which they are supported. I therefore defer the il- 
lustration of them till I treat of that evidence. 

Testimony was the last source of knowledge, and the 
last species of evidence which I purposed to explain. 
It is founded in the trust we repose in the veracity of 
our fellow-creatnres, in their intercourse w^ith one an- 
other, and is of very extensive use. All the credit of 
history, all the intelligence of places, men, and things, 



TESTmONY. 69 

we cannot in person examine : all the security society 
can confer on life and property in courts of justice; all 
the information of business and social life, depend en- 
tirely on the opinion we have that men will tell truth 
in their communications to one another. In many cases 
the evidence of testimony affords a high degree of satis- 
faction; but the degrees of satisfaction decrease, till 
they degenerate into that equivocal state, in which 
probability for and against truth are so equally poised 
as to leave the mind in a state of susj^ense. 

Two causes chiefly induce %is to distrust the credi- 
hility of testimony — suspicion that the relator was not 
fully informed, or that his interest might influence him 
to utter falsehood. The presence of either or of both 
of these causes is a sufficient reason for hesitation. But 
where neither takes place, we seem to have no reason 
to distrust the information of testimony. Truth is con- 
genial to the mind of man. It is more easy to tell truth 
than to utter falsehood. It is not easy to utter falsehood 
with success. Some time must elapse before the mind 
can acquire those habits and that composure which are 
necessary to secure falsehood from the inconsistency 
and embarrassment which instantly proclaim its base- 
ness and its insincerity. Though the evidence of testi- 
mony cannot be deemed equivalent to that of demon- 
stration, or to that of the senses, yet in most cases it 
would be ridiculous to indulge the least suspicion. 

That there are sucli cities as Paris, Eome, or Pekin, that Alex- 
ander conquered a great part of the western quarter of Asia, and 
that Julius Caasar was killed in the senate-house, are all facts of^ 
which we cannot entertain the smallest doubt. The conviction we 
have of the truth of such facts is called certaintj', and the impres- 
sion made on the mind by the evidence of testimony in general is 
termed lelief. The impression which results from divine testi- 
mony, or the evidence of revelation, has obtained the name oi faith. 
But a future opportunity will display more fully the credibility of 
testimony. 



70 INFERENCE. 



OF INFEEENCE, OK EEASONING, IN GENEKAL. 
(Extracted from Mills' Logic, pp. lOg-112.) 

[We say of a fact, or statement, that it is proved, 
when we believe its truth by reason of some other fact 
or statement from which it is said to folloio. Most of 
the propositions, whether aftirmative or negative, uni- 
versal, particular, or singular, which we believe, are 
not believed on their own evidence, but on the ground 
of something previously assented to, and from which 
they are said to be inferred. To infer .a proposition 
from a previous proposition or propositions : to give 
credence to it, or claim credence for it, as a conclusion 
from something else, is to reason^ in the most extensive 
sense of the term. There is a narrower sense in which 
the name reasoning is confined to the form of inference 
which is termed ratiocination, and of which the syllo- 
gism is the general type. 

§ 1. There are some cases in which the inference is 
apparent^ not real^ and which must not he confounded 
with cases of inference properly so called. 

This occurs when the proposition ostensibly inferred 
from another appears, on analysis, to be merely a repe- 
tition of the same, or part of the same, assertion, which 
was contained in the first. All the cases mentioned in 
books of logic as examples of equivalence of pro]30si- 
tions, are of this nature. Thus, if we were to argue — • 
" ]^o man is incapable of reason, for every man is ra- 
tional ;" or, "All men are mortal, for no man is exempt 
from death," it would be plain that we were not prov- 
ing the proposition, but only appealing to another mode 
of wording it, which may or may not be better adapted 
to suggest the real jDroof, but which contains in itself no 
shadow of proof. 

Another case is lohere^from a universal proposition^ 



INFERENCE. 71 

we affect to infer another whicJi dffers from it only in 
teing particular ; as, "All A is B, tlierefore some A is 
B ;" " JSTo A is B, therefore some A is not B." This, 
too, is not to conclude one proposition from another, 
bnt to repeat a second time something which had been 
asserted at first, with the difference that we do not here 
repeat the whole of the previous assertion, but only an 
indefinite part of it. 

A third case. is luhere^ the antecedent having affivfned 
a jpredi-cate of a given sicbject^ the consequent affli'ms of 
the saw?e sid)ject something already connoted {imjylied) 
hy the former predicate ; as, "Socrates is a man, there- 
fore Socrates is a living creature" — where all that is 
connoted by 'living creature was affirmed of Socrates 
when he was asserted to be a man. If the propositions 
are negative, we must invert their order, thus : Socrates 
is not a living creature, therefore he is not a man ; for 
if we deny the less, the greater, which includes it, is 
already denied by implication. These, therefore, are 
not really cases of inference ; and yet the trivial exam- 
ples by which, in manuals of logic, the rules of the sjd- 
logism are illustrated, are often of this ill-chosen kind, 
demonstrations in form, of conclusions to which who- 
ever miderstands the terms used in the statement of the 
data, has already and consciously assented. 

The most complex case of this sort of apparent infer- 
ence^ is what is called the convers-io^i of propositions^ 
which consists in making the predicate become a sub- 
ject, and the subject become a predicate, and framing 
out of the same terms, thus reversed, another proposi- 
tion, vv^hich must be true if the former is true. Thus, 
from the particular affirmative proposition, " Some A 
is B," we may infer that, " Some B is A." From the 
universal negative, " No A is B," we may conclude that, 
" No B is A." From the universal affirmative proposi- 



72 CASES OF APPARENT INFERENCE. 

tion, " All A is B," it cannot be inferred that, "All B 
is A ;" thongli all water is liquid, it is not implied that 
all liquid is water, but it is implied that some liquid is 
so; and hence the proposition, "All A is B," is legiti- 
mately convertible into, " Some B is A." This process, 
which con verts, a universal proposition into a particular, 
is termed conversion _^6/' acoidens. From the pro]30si- 
tion, " Some A is not B," we cannot even infer that, 
" Som.e B is not A ;" though some men are not English- 
men, it does not follow that some Englishmen are not 
men. The only legitimate conversion, if such it can be 
called, of a particular negative proposition, is in the 
form, " Some A is not B," therefore, " Something which 
is not B is A," and this is termed conversion by conti-a- 
position. In this case, however, the predicate and sub- 
ject are not merely reversed, but one of them is altered. 
Instead of [A] and [B], the terms of the new proposition 
are [a thing which is not B], and [A]. The original 
proposition, " Some A is not B," is first changed into a 
proposition equivalent to it, " Some A is 'a thing which 
is not B ;' " and the proposition, being now no longer a 
particular negative, but a particular affirmative, admits 
of conversion in the first mode, or, as it is called, simple 
conversion. 

In all these cases there is not really any ivference^ 
there is in the conclusion no nCw truth, nothing but 
what was already asserted in the premises, and obvious 
to whoever a]3prehends them. The fact asserted in the 
conclusion is either the very same fact^ or jpart of the 
fact^ asserted in the original j[>r opposition. This follows 
from our previous analysis of the import of propositions. 
When we say, for example, " Some lawful . sovereigns 
are tyrants," we mean to assert that the attributes con- 
noted by the term " lawful sovereign," and the attri- 
butes connoted by the term "tyrant," sometime^ coexist 



CASES OF APPARENT INFERENCE. 73 

in the same individiml. IN'ow this is also precisely what 
we mean when we say that some tyrants are lawful sov- 
ereigns ; which, therefore, is not a second proposition 
inferred from the first, any more than the English trans- 
lation of Euclid's Elements is a collection of theorems 
different from and consequences of those contained in 
the Greek original. 

Again, if we assert, "JSTo great general is a fool," we 
mean that the attributes connoted by " great general," 
and those connoted by ''fool," never coexist in the 
same subject ; which is also the exact meaning which 
we express when we say, that no fool is a great general. 

When we assert that all quadrupeds are warm- 
blooded, we assert, not only that the attributes con- 
noted by " quadruped," and those connoted by " warm- 
blooded," sometimes coexist, but that the former never 
exist without the latter. iTow, the 23roposition, " Some 
warm-blooded creatures are quadrupeds," expresses the 
first half of this meaning, dropping the latter half, and, 
therefore, has been already affirmed in the antecedent 
proposition, " All quadrupeds are warm-blooded ;" but 
that all warm-blooded creatures are quadrupeds, or, in 
other words, that the attributes connoted by " warm- 
blooded" never exist without those connoted by " quad- 
rupeds," has not been asserted, and cannot be inferred. 
In order to reassert, in an inverted form, the whole of 
what was affirmed in the proposition, "All quadruj)eds 
are warm-blooded," we must convert it by contra-posi- 
tion, thus : " Nothing wdiich is not warm-blooded is a 
quadruped." This proposition, and the one from w^hich 
it is derived, are exactly equivalent, and either of them 
may be substituted for the other ; for, to say that when 
the attributes of a quadruped are present, those of a 
warm-blooded creature are present, is to say, that when 
the latter are absent the former are absent. 

4 



74 OPPOSITION OF PKOPOsino:x5. 

In a manual for joiing students, it would be proper 
to dwell at greater length upon the conversion and 
eouipoUency (equivalence) of propositions. For, al- 
though that cannot be called reasoning or inference 
v/hich is a mere reassertion in different vvords of what 
had been asserted before, there is no more important 
intellectual habit, nor any the cultivation of which falls 
more strictly within the province of the art of logic, 
than that of discerning rapidly and surely the identity 
of an assertion when disguised under the diversity of 
language. That important chapter in logical treatises 
which relates to the opposition of jDropositions, is of use 
chiefly for this purpose. Such considerations as these, 
that contrary propositions may both be false, but can- 
not both be true ; that siib-contrary propositions may 
both be true, but cannot both be false ; that of two sub- 
alternate propositions, the truth of the universal proves 
the truth of the particular, and the falsity of the partic- 
ular proves the falsity of the universal, but not vice versa 
— are apt to appear, at first sight, very technical and 
mysterious, but when explained, seem almost too ob- 
vious to require so formal a statement, since the same 
amount of explanation which is necessary to make the 
principles intelligible would enable the truths which 
they convey to be apprehended in any particular case 
which can occur.'-^ In this respect, however, these 



contraries. 



* All A is B, 
No A is B, 

lr^t!'?At-R [sub-contraries, 
borne A is not ±5, J 

Noiisll'^^^^^^^i^^'^^^^^- 

£mtAg'B,h^^^°-^^tradictorieB. 

All A is B, ^ 

Some A is B, j 

and )■ respectively subaltemate. 

No A is B, 

Some A is not B, J 



INDUCTION, 75 

axioms of logic are on a level with those of mathe- 
matics. 

§ 2. HaviPig noticed, in order to exclude from the 
province of reasoning, or inference properly so called, 
the cases in which the progress from one truth to 
another is only apparent, the logical consequent being 
a mere repetition of the logical antecedent ; we now 
pass to those which are cases of inference in the proper 
acceptation of the term^ those in which we set out from 
known truths^ to arrive at others really distinct from 
them. 

Reasoning.^ in tlie extended sense in which I use the 
term, and in which it is synonymous with infereuce, is 
popularly said to be of two Mnds : — reasoning from 
particulars to generals^ and reasoning from generals to 
particulars j the former being called induction., the 
latter, ratiocination, or syllogism. It will presently be 
shown that there is a third species of reasoning, which 
falls under neither of these descriptions, and wiiich, 
nevertheless, is not only valid, but the foundation of 
both the others. 

The meaning intended by the above expressions is, 
that induction is inferring a proposition from proposi- 
tions less g&neral than itself; and ratiocination is in- 
ferring a proposition from propositions equally or more 
general. When, from \h.Q observation of a number of 
individual instances, we ascend to a general proposi- 
tion; or when, by combining a number of general 
propositions, we conclude from them another proposi- 
tion still more general, the process, which is substan- 
tially the same in both instances, is called induction. 
When from a general proposition, not alone (for from a 
single proposition nothing can be concluded which is 
not involved in the terms), but by combining it with 
other propositions, we infer a proposition of the same 



76 INDUCTION. 

degree of generality with itself, or a less general propo- 
sition, or a proposition merely individual, the process is 
ratiocination. When, in short, the conclusion is more 
general than the largest of the premises, the argument 
is commonly called induction ; when less general, or 
equally general, it is ratiocination. 

Induction is, without doubt, a process of real infer- 
ence. The conclusion in an induction embraces more 
than is contained in the premises. The principle or 
law collected from particular instances, the general 
proposition in which we embody the result of our ex- 
perience, covers a much larger extent of ground than 
the individual experiments which are said to form its 
basis. A principle ascertained by experience is more 
than a mere summing up of what we have specifically 
observed in the individual cases that we have examined ; 
it is a generalization grounded on those cases, and ex- 
pressive of our belief, that what we there found true, is 
true in an indefinite number of cases which we have 
not examined, and are never likely to examine. In 
every induction we proceed from truths which we know, 
to truths which we did not know; from facts certified 
by observation, to facts which we have not observed, 
and even to facts not capable of being now observed ; 
future facts, for example, but which we do not hesitate 
to believe upon the sole evidence of the induction itself. 
—Mills' Logic, pp. 108-112.] 

[We return now to Professor Barron's Lecture.^] 
I have now explained the nature of propositions ; I 
have specified the dill^erent kinds into which they may 
be divided ; and I have enumerated the principal sorts 
of evidence by which they are supported. From what 
I have advanced, it has appeared that all the proposi- 

[* For some excellent remarks on complete and incomplete inducUan, con- 
sult Thomson's Outlines of tbe Laws of Thought, § 119.] 



THE PEOPEK FUNCTIONS OF JUDGMENT. 7? 

tions into which knowledge may be formed, are resolva- 
ble into an affirmation or negation of the agreement of 
the two terms or ideas of which they consist ; and that 
the judgment the mind passes on this agreement or dis- 
agreement, is then proper and jnst, when it corresponds 
to the degree of evidence bj which the proposition is 
supported. The perfection of judgment is, to compare 
our ideas fairly and candidly, either by juxtaposition, 
as in the case of intuitive proj)Ositions, or by the inter- 
vention of intermediate ideas, when proof is requisite, 
and to pass a decision on that comparison, according to 
truth and justice, unbiased by partiality or prejudice, 
unseduced by fallacious appearances in things, ambi- 
guities in words, or any disposition to deceive, or to be 
deceived. 

As, then, the purpose of all our inquiries is, to dis- 
cover truth and knowledge, and as the comj)letion of 
this discovery consists in discerning the agreement or 
disagreement of our ideas, it is plain that we cannot 
j)roceed one step without having constant recourse to 
the operation of judgment. We exert it immediately 
in cases of intuition ; we exert it at the conclusion of 
every process of reasoning, in determining whether two 
principal ideas agree or disagree ; and we exert it in 
every step of that process, in deciding concerning the 
agreement or disagreement of each couple of interme- 
diate ideas. The candid inquirer, therefore, should 
study to preserve his mind in a state fitted to perform 
this operation in a proper manner, and to divest it of all 
obstructions or incumbrances which may interfere with 
its success. Without this precaution, it is vain to pre- 
tend to discover truth, because we shall only perplex and 
discompose our minds, spend our time in irksomeness 
to ourselves, in disturbance to others, and sink deeper 
in falsehood and in error. After all the candor and 



Y8 bacon's classification of pkejudices. 

patience we can exercise, the investigation of knowl- 
edge is a painful and laborious task ; but our labor and 
time are totally thrown away, without a legitimate ex- 
ertion of judgment. It is, therefore^ a matter of tJie 
highest imjportance^ in searching for truths to hnow 
those impediments vjhich obstruct the rectitude of our 
j%idgments^ and to learn the rules we m,ust o'bserve^ in 
order to conduct them luith justice and expedition. 
This is a subject deserving most serious attention, and 
must not be forgotten in a system of logic. 

Erroneous judgments are denominated prejudices^ or 
rash judgments ; that is, judgments passed before we 
have duly examined all the circumstances of the case 
on which we intend to decide. Prejudices generally 
relate to opinions ; prepossessions, to attachments : the 
former refer chiefly to things, the latter to persons. 
But I intend here that prejudices should comprehend 
all the impediments which interfere with our forming 
[I'ight] judgments of every sort, whether respecting 
things or persons. Prejudices are arranged hy Lord 
Bacon lender four heads^ \y\\\q\\ he calls, in the lan- 
guage of the schools, Idola Tribus^ the prejudices of 
the species ; Idola Fori., the prejudices of language ; 
Idola Specus^ the prejudices of the individual ; and 
Idola Theatric the prejudices of authority. These 
terms, though scholastic, are extremely significant. It 
is seldom we find the language of \\\q schoolmen so re- 
plete with meaning. Prejudices are not improperly 
distinguished by the title of Idola ; because they occupy 
the place of truth in the mind, in the same manner as 
the idol attracts in the temple the devotion w'hich be- 
longs to the Author of nature. 

The Idola Trihus are the prejudices common to all 
mankind, and arise from the natural imbecility and 
vanity of the mind, or from the influence which imagina- 



PREJUDICES OF THE SPECIES. Y9 

tion, passion, aiFection, and attachment have upon the 
operations of the understanding. The Idola Fori in- 
clude the erroneous judgments into which we are ied 
by the inaccuracy or the abuse of language. The Idola 
Sjpecus comprehend those prejudices which result from 
peculiar circumstances, from constitution of mind or 
body, from education, from habit, or from accident. 
The Idola Theatri are the errors into which we are de- 
coyed by public opinion, by authority, by custom, by 
fashion, or by any other means which mankind employ 
to pervert the judgments of one another. These di\d- 
sions contain, if not all, at least the chief materials of 
our prejudices. I shall therefore resume them, and 
point out the particulars contained under each. I begin 
with the Prejudices of the s^peeies. 

Though the human understanding, assiduously em- 
ployed and properly directed, might have proceeded 
much farther than it has done in the investigation of 
knowledge, yet, so limited are its powers, that there is 
much reason to apprehend its progl^ess, in the most fa- 
vorable circumstances, cannot be very great. Thousands 
of subjects daily occm*, concerning which we are totally 
ignorant, and concerning which any industry we c-in 
exert cannot be supposed to remove that ignorance. 

The substance and many of the operations of all existences, cor- 
poreal and spiritual, are now, and perhaps will remain, altogether 
unknown. We comprehend nothing of either, but a few of tlieir 
qualities. All the assimilating powers of nature, by which animals 
are produced, and reared, and live, and act, by instinct or design ; 
by which plants grow to various sizes, consist of texture so differ- 
ent, display colors so beautiful and so numerous ; and by which 
minerals so precious, and so dissimilar, are formed in the bowels of 
the earth ; constitute an immense field of inquiry, in a gi'eat meas- 
ure beyond our reach. All investigations which involve the idea of 
infinity, whether with regard to excellence, space, or time, exceed 
our comprehension ; because of infinity we have no adequate con- 



80 PHILOSOPHY OF THE SCHOOLMEN- 

ception, and can only approach it negatively by discovering what 
it is not. All inquiries, also, about futurity, however anxiously 
pursued by men in all ages and situations, surpass the human 
powers of research, if we except the very short progress which the 
sagacity of some men may make, guided by the imperfect and falli- 
ble aid of experience and analogy. 

Limited, then, as tlie mind of man is in its inquiries, 
bj tlie nature of many subjects themselves, and numer- 
ous as still are the fields of accessible knowledge, un- 
touched or unexplored; such, notwithstanding, is its 
vanity, its folly, or its presumption, that more perhaps 
of its time and its industry has been employed in 
searching for what is not to be found, than in investiga- 
ting what is useful and intelligible. 

Is it not deplorable, that so much ingenuity should have been 
thrown away, even in enlightened times, on skeptical and useless in- 
quiries concerning the nature and existence of matter and spirit, 
without attending to what is of real importance, the qualities and 
operations of both, from which useful knowledge concerning them 
might have been deduced ? Is it not equally lamentable, that the 
true method of prosecuting the study of nature should have been 
unknown till the days of Lord Bacon? and that philosophers 
should have been so misled, or so absurd, as to retire to their 
closets, and to form theories to account for the phenomena of the 
heavens and the earth, without consulting the facts which they 
every day beheld ? 

But all the abuses and misapplications of human ingenuity com- 
bined, furnish nothing equal to those of the schools for near five 
hundred years, from the middle of the eleventh century to the re- 
vival of learning in the sixteenth. ISTever did any set of philosophers 
labor so strenuously and successfully to enlighten the mind of man, 
and to promote the discovery of truth, as the schoolmen did to 
confound all human inquiry, and to interrupt all progress in knowl- 
edge. ITever were subtilty and ingenuity employed so preposter- 
ously, in pretending to teach the method of investigating truth, and 
exposing error, without communicating any useful information.* 

[* " The works of Aristotle, translated into barbarous Latin, formed the 
groimdwork of what has been called the philosophy of the Bchoolmen ; who 



THE SOHOOL-LOGIC. 



LECTURE VI. 

PREJUDICES. 

Yanity and presumption have not been engaged 
more successfully in obstructing the progress of general 
knowledge, than the imagination, the passions, and 
self-interest, have been employed in clouding the mind 
with prejudices respecting society, business, arts, and 
social intercourse. IS'ational partialities are so insuper- 
able in the most enlightened and civilized periods, that 
it seems impossible for the people in general of any 
nation, to do justice in the judgments they form, of the 
capacity, the ingenuity, the courage, or the integrity of 
their rivals. 

The proud Jews of old treated all the rest of mankind with con- 
tempt ; and if they admitted them to be creatures of the Author 
of nature, they accounted them unworthy of his care, monopo- 

never rightly understood Aristotle, and enhirged and disfigured his logio 
by endless and insignificant commentaries. The school-logic was taught 
in all universities before the Eefonnation, and in not a few of them since. 
It was, indeed, almost the only tiling that was then taught in those semi- 
naries; and so eagerly was it run after, that Duns Scotus, a great teacher 
of it at Oxford, is said to have had at one time twenty thousand scholars. 
This is not probable; and, if true, can be accounted for in no other way 
than by supposing that, in an ignorant age, the man who could dispute, or 
speak fluently, would be admired as a prodigy, and might acquire among 
the common people what influence he pleased. ]t is to be observed, too, 
that the school-logic was found to be a good support to the Komish religion, 
and was by the Church of Rome patronized accordingly. For thslog c, by 
confining men's minds within the narrow circle of its own rules, iind making 
them more attentive to words than to things, and totally regardless of na- 
ture, checked all freedom of inquiry ; and, by promoting a habit of arguing 
against one's belief, as well as for it, had a tendency to prevent seiious 
thinking, to harden the heart, to pervert the understanding, and to make 
men indifferent about the trvitlV—BeaUie^s Moral Science, pp. 555-6.] 

4« 



82 NATIONAI, PARTIALITIES. 

lizing his attention and his providence to themselves. Tlie Greeks, 
vain of their enterprise, their learning, and their arts, considered 
all other nations, even the refined and luxurious Persians, as bar- 
bai'ians, and held in little estimation their manners, their arts, and 
their fidelity. The Athenians represented their rivals, the Spar- 
tans, as ignorant, rude, ambitious, and as destitute of every quality 
except stratagem and patience. The Spartans retaliated the op- 
probrious epithets of fickle, factious, sophistical, impertinent; of 
restless, loquacious, turbulent, and ostentatious. The Romans, 
like the Greeks, stigmatized with the appellation of barbarous the 
rest of the world. They vilified the military character of the Car- 
thaginians and Macedonians. They ridiculed the mercantile spirit 
of the former, converted their national faith into a proverb of re- 
proach, and scarcely left them a single civil virtue. 

But, though superior liberality of sentiment certainly 
prevails in modern times ; and nations, having much 
more intercourse, survey their neighbors with less aver- 
sion and suspicion ; yet there is scarcely to be found, 
even among men of letters, that candor and generosity 
which, disdaining all partial and local attachments, 
constitute the philosopher the citizen of the world. 
All the civilized nations, I believe, of modern Europe, 
discover among their countrymen knowledge, genius, 
and industry, superior to what are to be found in simi- 
lar circumstances among any of their neighbors. The 
French, the English, the Italians, will not, I conceive, 
readily yield to one another precedency in science 
or arts. 

In private life, the j)i'evalenc3 of imagination, of 
passion, and of attachment, extinguishes almost every 
ray of impartiality and justice in the judgments of men. 
The jpowei" of i'tnagination is so prevalent in some 
minds as to render them altogether impatient under the 
irksome operation of comparing ideas ; and they hasten 
to any judgment, however erroneous, rather than con- 
tinue in a state of susj)ense. The greater part of man- 
kind are guided more by their imagination and feeling, 



THE JUDGMENT PERVERTED BY THE PA8SI0NS. 83 

than by reason. An analogy or a figure influences 
them more than an argument. Thej will go with the 
multitude, however misguided, rather than stand single 
on the side of justice and truth. 

The passions pervert judgment still more than the 
imagination, and there is hardly any thing we wish to 
think right and reasonable, which we will not quickly 
find arguments for judging to be so. The spirit of 
party, and the passions it prompts, appear on many oc- 
casions to eradicate every idea of equity, candor, and 
consistency. Men oppose to-day what they supported 
yesterday ; they reprobate measures as void of faith, 
honor, and integrity, which they formerly maintained 
to be the result of wisdom and discernment, and the 
source of the most important public good. "When our 
own interest comes in competition with that of others, 
it is almost impossible to survey the subject of dispute 
with an impartial eye. In all such cases, men of can- 
dor, conscious of their imperfection, renounce judgment 
altogether, or endeavor to contemplate their situation 
and attachments in the light they could view those of 
neutral persons. It is, indeed, exceedingly difficult to 
emancipate the mind entirely from these causes of erro- 
neous judgment ; but every inquirer should make the 
attempt, as he may be assured his researches otherwise 
will never be attended with pleasure or success. 

[Some important suggestions on this subject we here subjoin, 
from Dr. Watts. Logic, Part ii., chap. iii. The various passions or 
affections of the mind lead the judgment astray from truth. It is 
love that makes the mother think her own child the fairest, and 
will sometimes persuade us that a blemish is a beauty. Hope and 
desire make an horn- of delay seem as long as two or three hours. 
Hope inchnes us to think there is nothing too difficult to be at- 
tempted. Despair tells us that a brave attempt is mere rashness, 
and that every difficulty is insurmountable. What could persuade 
the wis© men and philosophers of a popish country to believe tha 



84 JUDGMENT WAEPED BY THE FEELINGS. 

gross absurdities of the Romish Church, but the fear of torture or 
death, the galleys or the Inquisition ? 

The fGiidness we have for self and the relation which other per- 
sons bear to ourselves, furnish us with another long list of prgu- 
dices. We are generally ready to fancy that every thing of our 
own has something peculiarly valuable in it, when indeed there is 
no other reason but because it is our own. We entertain the best 
opinion of the persons of our own party, and easil}' believe evil 
reports of persons of a different sect or faction. We set up our 
own opinions in religion and philosophy as the tests of orthodoxy 
and truth. We are thus tempted to pervert even the sacred books 
of Scripture to make them speak our own sense. When our ow-n 
inclination, or ease, or honor, or profit tempt us to the practice of 
any thing, how do we strain our thoughts to find arguments for it, 
and persuade ourselves it is lawful I 

In matters of equity between man and man, our Saviour has 
taught us to put my neighbor in place of myself, and myself in 
place of my neighbor, rather than be bribed by this corrupt princi- 
ple of self-love to do injury to my neighbor. 

Again, the peculiar tempers and humors of the mind influence 
the judgment and occasion many mistakes. The credulous man is 
ready to receive every thing for truth that has but a shadow of 
evidence ; he is ready to resign his own opinion to the first objec- 
tion which he hears, and to receive any sentiments of another that 
are asserted with a positive air and with much assurance. The man 
of contradiction stands ready to oppose every thing that is said. 
He gives but slight attention to the reasons of other men, from an 
inward scornful presumption that they have no strength in them. 

Again, the dogmatist is sure of every thing, and the slceptic be- 
lieves nothing. The former adopts his opinions hastily and on in- 
sufficient grounds, and then will hear no arguments to the con- 
trary : the latter will not take pains to search things to the bot- 
tom, but when he sees difficulties on both sides, resolves to beheve 
neither of them. 

Some men believe a doctrine merely because it is ancient, others 
because it is new^ : some Avill not believe a proposition in theology 
if it is mysterious, while others would on that account receive it 
more readily.] 

The Idola Fori^ which originate from language^ the 
great instrument of social communication, form the 



IDOLA SPECUS. S6 

second class of prejudices. The principal inconyenien- 
ces they occasion, result from the use of words which 
have no meaning, or which bear, in our apprehension, 
a meaning more or less extensive than thej ought to 
have. I am, however, fortunately relieved, from the 
necessity of recapitulating and exposing them, by what 
I advanced in a former lecture concernino- the ambio'ui- 
ties of general terms, and the manner of ascertaining 
them by enumeration. What I there observed refers, 
indeed, to the enunciation of single ideas ; but no more 
is necessary to obtain a distinct and just judgment. If 
language exhibit single ideas perspicuously and fully, 
it has done all that can be expected from it. If an er- 
roneous judgment shall still be passed, the understand- 
ing must bear the blame, while the expression will de- 
serve no censure. 

The next class of jprejudices^ denominated Idola 
Sjpecus^ include all those errors in judgment into which 
men are seduced, from circumstances jpeculiar to them- 
selves.^ from the constitution of their minds or hodies., 
ranh in life, education.^ or course of study. 

Infinite, almost, is the variety of the external appear- 
ance of the human race, and no'less various, perhaps, 
are the constitutions of the minds of men.* For this 
reason unanimity is not to be looked for, even concern- 
ing business and the common intercourse of life, far less 
concerning speculative tenets of difficult conception, 
probably in some cases of exceptionable evidence. If 
judgments are formed by candid men on such topics, 



[* Some men have a native obscurity of conception whereby they are 
hindered from attaining clear and distinct ideas. Some have a defect of 
memory, so that they are not capable of comparing their present ideas 
with a great variety of others, in order to secure themselves from incon- 
sistency in judgment. Others scarcely ever take a survey of things wide 
enough to judge wisely and consistently. See Watts^ part ii. chap, iii.] 



86 JUDGMENT BIASED BY EDUCATION. 

they will be different, suitable to the diiferent aspects 
in which the objects appear to their respective appre- 
hensions. 'No inconvenience ensues from these differ- 
ent judgments, either in affairs or in speculation, if men 
are animated by charity and proper respect for the 
opinions of their neighbors as well as for their own. 
They add variety to conversation and to action, corre- 
spondent to the difference which nature has established 
in the individuals of the species. They inspire patience 
and toleration, which afford exercise for several of the 
most amiable and social virtues. 

If any nation, then, or large society of men, pretend 
to be unanimous about tenets speculative in their na- 
ture^ and remote from vulgar comprehension, those of 
religion itself not excepted, the whole almost of the 
judgments from which that unanimity springs must be 
indigested if not inadequate ; that is, they must be the 
judgments of teachers or leaders, adopted without ex- 
amination. Their followers are generally incapable of 
forming opinions for themselves, on account either of 
the imbecility of their faculties or the abstract nature 
of the topics; and of course their assent, founded on 
pretended judgment, is no better than acquiescence in 
the judgments of those they revere, concerning subjects 
which they do not fully understand. 

Education^ the professed purpose of which is to lead 
us to the temple of truth by the easiest and shortest 
road, will not readily be supposed to retard or embar- 
rass our progress in that course in which it pretends to 
be a guide. It is, however, certain, that no station w^e 
can occupy, no discipline we can undergo, is more ivQ- 
quently j?rc>Z?//jc of jKirtial judgments!^ 

\^ How many fooleries are instilled into us by our nurses, our fellow- 
cliildren ; by servants or unskilful teachers, which are maintained through 
life 1 We choose our particular sect and party in the civil, the religious, 



EKROE OF EDUCATION. 87 

Tn a]l periods of society, teaciiers have too commonly been more 
concerned to inculcate the philosophy of their sect, or the religion 
of their church, than the pure doctrines of truth ; and the inexpe- 
rience of youth, with the respect they naturally entertain for ad- 
vanced years and superior wisdom, cannot often fail to render such 
education a hot-bed of errors and prejudices. History and experi- 
ence teem with examples of the fertility of this soil, and teach, in 
the strongest language, the necessity of the most assiduous atten- 
tion, to prevent or eradicate the plentiful crop of noxious plants 
with which it is in hazard of being overrun. 

The fundaviental error ^ perhaps, of education^ lias 
consisted in addressing truth, whether prudential, moral, 
or philosophical, to the memory rather than to the un- 
derstanding. It is commonly supposed, if a great deal 
of information be lodged in the mind, and committed 
to the custody of faithful recollection, that it will prove 
a plentiful and useful magazine, from which the pupil 
may draw with facility and advantage every supply he 
may need in the conduct of life. But it is unfortunate- 
ly forgotten, that accumulation of truth is only half the 
business of instruction, and is not even the more im- 
portant half. The more important part is to acquire 
the habit of employing to some good ptu'pose the ac- 
quisitions of memory, by the exercise of the understand- 
ing about them ; and, till this habit be acquired, these 
acquisitions will not be found of very great use. 

With regard io prudential truths or the conduct of a 
pupil respecting his instructors, his parents, his friends, 
his equals, his attachments and amusements, the great 
fundamental rule seems to be, that good behavior is 
both his duty and his interest, and that upon his ob- 



and the learned life, by the influence of education. The Turks are taught 
early to believe in Mahomet, the Jews in Moses ; the heathens worship a 
multitude of gods, under the force of their education, and it would be 
well if there were not millions of Christians, who have little more to say 
for their religion than that they were born and bred up in it.— Watts?^ 



88 PREJUDICES RESULTING FROM EDUCATION. 

servation of it his treatment and gratifications will de- 
pend. 

If tlie uniform and discreet conduct of the teacher, or the parent, 
makes him consider what his behavior is, and forces him to reason 
about the practice of it, he will be happy and satisfied, he will be 
attentive and civil to others, and he will be prepared to judge for 
himself in the conduct of life, v/hen he shall be obliged to think and 
act without direction. But if he have no rule of conduct but the 
dictates of every sudden whim which may arise in his own fantas- 
tic imagination, or which the occasional indulgence or severity of 
an indiscreet superintendent may suggest, his conduct will be the re- 
sult of foolish attachments or aversions, of caprice, or of passion. 
His wants will be multiphed beyond the bounds of nature, and the 
circumstances of his situation ; he will be miserable himself, dis- 
gusting to others. Advice and instruction will have with him no 
useful influence. His subjection to authority will be his utter 
aversion, because it interferes with his gratifications. His applica- 
tion to study will be disagreeable, because he has no conception of 
the utility of knowledge. From such a train of unfortunate preju- 
dices, what other conduct can ensue than Ave often survey? 
Namely, a headlong career of the most unlimited gratification, as 
soon as he is emancipated from that mortifying restraint from which 
he has long wished so ardently to disengage himself; and an in- 
surmountable aversion "^0 every path of inquiry and truth, into 
which it had been the purpose of education to lead him. 

Though these fatal consequences of improper instruc- 
tion are fortunately not very frequent, yet numerous 
examples occur of prejudices implanted hj the aiitJior- 
ity of teachers^ relative to philosophical, political, and 
prudential truth, which have produced effects not a litde 
detrimental. The lectures of philosophy in ancient 
Greece, tended more to inculcate the particular tenets 
of the Epicureans, the Stoics, and the Academics, than 
the science of human nature, and the doctrines of wis- 
dom. Aristotle was perhaps more anxious to excite 
admiration, than to extend useful knowledge ; to consti- 
tute a new sect of inquirers, than to promote the influ- 



EXAMPLES FEOM ENGLISH HISTOEY. 89 

ence of truth. From the abuse, at least of his logic, 
flowed a corruption of the education of Europe, which 
for many centuries not only did not point out, but ob- 
structed every avenue to improvement. 

That no ray of useful information should have transpired amid 
all the industry, and acuteness, and even ingenuity of the scholastic 
doctors, can only be explained from the vanity and futility of the 
learning they inculcated. When the art of reasoning itself was 
converted into an engine of sophistry and deceit, when the educa- 
tion of the most learned and elevated members of society consisted 
in subtle wrangling and syllogistic disputation, can we wonder that 
the understandings of men should be debased and disgraced by the 
admission of the most palpable inconsistencies, and that the stupen- 
dous fabric of Popish superstition, the most presumptuous system 
that ever insulted human reason, should have been then received 
and established ? 

The history of Great Britain presents two striking ex- 
amples of the pernicioics effects of the prejudices of edu- 
cation^ one political, and the other religious. Charles 
the First lost his life and his crown by the arbitrary 
maxims of government he had received from his ances- 
tors. James the Second lost his crown by the Popish 
education he had received in France. 

Though Charles the First is commonly called a martyr to the 
doctrine and worship of the Church of England, and is accounted 
by the vulgar to have sacrificed his life in defending her against the 
bigotry and violence of sectaries, whose hatred to her and him was 
insatiable; yet it is well known, that his attachment to that church 
was neitber the first nor the cliief cause of the discontents which 
generated and prolonged the civil war. Eeligious jealousies and 
fears were then employed, as they have often been, to rouse, and 
irritate, and alienate the people. But the encroachments on prop- 
erty contrary to law, and the levying of money without consent of 
Parliament, alarmed all wise men, and excited that tremendous 
spirit of resistance which terminated in the lamentable fate of the 
monarch, and the destruction of the constitution, evils that seem to 
have exceeded in magnitude every wish or conception of the pat- 



90 EFFECTS OF PARTY SPIKir. 

riots who first opposed the arbitrary measures of the crown. That 
Charles knew the constitution reprobated the levying of money by 
his own authority, we have no reason to doubt ; but he had been 
fatally educated in principles which suggested, that cases of neces- 
sity, or the wants of princes, were superior to the constitution or 
the laws ; and that, if Parliament refused to grant what supplies he 
thought necessary, a case of necessity took place, and he was at 
liberty to exert his sovereign power, to provide for the salvation of 
the state. 

The education of James the Second in France, and his attach- 
ment to Poper}', were the springs of the Revolution, and of the 
ejection of the family of Stuart from the throne of their ancestors. 
Nothing perhaps but the bigotry of that prince cotild have saved 
the liberties of this country from extinction. Could he have relin- 
quished his attachment to Popery, could he have suspended or 
moderated that attachment, he might have reigned without a par- 
liament, and trampled on the laws and religion of his subjects. His 
finances, by economy and good management, were in perfect order, 
and nearly adequate to the annual expenses of government. The 
calamities and disasters of the late civil wars were fresh in the 
memories of men, and all ranks were reluctant to renew them. 
The enthusiastic spirit which had inflamed the body of the nation 
against his father, had now nearly spent its force, and nothing 
seemed wanting to success but to allow the minds of men to cool, 
and to habituate them to the slavery that was preparing for them. 
The blind zeal, however, of the king, and his intemperate attach- 
ment to his religion, for the happiness of this land of hberty, 
hastened every event to a crisis. Tliey so completely disgusted 
friends and enemies, that the people, Avith the most unprecedented 
unanimity, pushed from a throne, without violence or convulsion, a 
monarch and a family, who would have sacrificed the happiness 
and peace of a great nation to an absurd system of foreign super- 
stition. 

The Idola Theatri constitute the last class of preju- 
dices of which I have to speak. They generate all those 
erroneons judgments which result from the malignant 
influence of society, and which may be comprehended 
under the effects of party spirit^ of fashion^ and of au- 
thority. 

Party spirit has in all ages been the most formida- 



EFFECTS OF PAKTY SPIKFr. 91 

ble enemy to sound judgment in philosophy, in politics, 
and in aflairs. No man, it would seem, ever retained 
either discernment or candor to withstand its seduction, 
after allowing it to get possession of his breast. The 
only safety for the impartiality of the mind, the only 
means of preserving the solidity and equity of its deci- 
sions, is to fly from the evil, and to avoid the infection. 
If we advance within the sphere of its attraction, we are 
undone. 

It would be endless to enumerate the examples of the 
baneful influence of this spirit, ^vhich history and ex- 
perience so plentifully supply. Numerous and violent 
are the contentions it has produced in science, in re- 
ligion, and in business. When engaged in a party, we 
retain no rule of judgment but the opinion of the people 
with whom we associate. Every thing they think, or 
say, or do, is right, proceeds from honorable and useful 
motives, and is directed to the accomplishment of same 
important end. All our friends are men of discern- 
ment, of integrity, of generosity, of liberal minds, of 
impartial views, and of great virtues. The case of our 
antagonists, their motives, qualities, and conduct, are 
directly the reverse. Their designs are the result of 
imprudence, folly, or iniquity. Weakness, wickedness, 
or selfishness, mark all their plans, and disfigure all 
their operations. They inherit no spark of discretion, 
enterprise, or public spirit. Truth is thus suppressed or 
misrepresented ; and in all the subjects of contest, there 
v/ill not be found, on either side, a single sound or im- 
partial judgment. 

Religious party spirit, in former ages, chiefly misled 
and agitated the minds of men. Happily for the honor 
and peace of the present age, the influence of this most 
malignant disposition is now nearly extinguished. The 
progress of truth and knowledge has not been a little 



92 PREJUDICES OF FASHION. 

extended and accelerated by this fortunate event. Po- 
litical party spirit, however, still keeps strong hold of 
the minds of men ; and the misrepresentations and 
falsehoods with which it corrupts their hearts, and mis- 
leads their judgments, are sufficiently discernible. Did 
not attachment to party blind the understanding, and 
obliterate the feelings of modesty and candor, men 
w^ould be ashamed of the contempt or neglect with 
which they receive the plainest truths. On some occa- 
sions, indeed, this spirit appears to prompt such par- 
tiality, as not only despises the dictates of truth and 
reason, but disregards even the most important inter- 
ests of society, provided it may accomplish its favorite 
objects of ambition. 

The jprejudices of fashion seduce and pervert all 
mankind. Every thing feels its influence. All ranks 
are subjected to its power. Manners, arts, language, 
dress, amusements, studies, science, even laws and reli- 
gion, are not exempted from its sway. Fashion is, on 
many occasions, the opinion of the majority of society, 
or of the more illustrious ]3art of it; and so ductile are 
the minds of many men, that they consider its dictates 
as of superior authority to those of reason itself. Of all 
our prejudices, however, those supported by fashion are 
perhaps the most justifiable, at least they are often the 
most difficult to surmount. In all matters of indiiier- 
ence, it would seem, we should submit to fashion ; and 
as we would not choose to follow any authority in judg- 
ing of right and wrong, so it appears um-easonable to 
be singular in cases where neither is concerned. 

[Fashion has a most powerful inflnence on our judg- 
ments, for it employs those two strong engines of fear 
and shame to operate upon our understanding with 
unhappy success. We are ashamed to believe or to 
profess an unfashionable opinion in philosophy, and a 



PREJUDICES OF AUTHORITY. 93 

cowardly soiil dares not so much as indulge a thought 
contrary to the established or fashionable faith, nor act 
in opposition to custom, thongh it be according to the 
dictates of reason. I confess there is a respect due to 
mankind which should incline even the wisest of men 
to follow the innocent customs of their country in the 
outward practices of civil life, and in some measure to 
submit to fashion in all indifferent affairs, where reason 
and Scripture make no remonstrance. But the judg- 
ments of the mind ought to be forever free, and not 
biased by the customs and fashions of any age or na- 
tion whatsoever. — Watts.^ 

The prejudices of fashion are nearly allied to those of 
authority. They differ only in the extent of the source 
from which they are derived. Under the former, we 
are guided by the practice or opinion of the great body 
of the people ; under the latter, we follow the opinions 
and example of eminent individuals. Authority is most 
detrimental to all inquiries after truth, and has perhaps 
obstructed more the progress of knowledge than all 
other causes conjoined. It has infested and corrupted 
the investigations of philosophy in all ages. Even the 
enlightened spirit of the present age is not altogether 
delivered from its dominion. 

Whenever men pretend to teach knowledge, by 
adopting systems without consulting nature, the influ- 
ence of authority must be unlimited and indisputable, 
because the inquirer has sought for no test of truth but 
the opinion of the author of the system. It is fortunate 
for knowledge that this mode of philosophizing is now 
exploded, and will never perhaps regain establishment. 
After reigning uncontrollably from the days of Aristotle 
to those of Descartes, it was consigned to oblivion, with 
all the speculations of this eminent projector, by the 
sound philosophy of Newton. The general prevalence 



94 THE AUTHORITY OF FOKEFATHERS. 

of the experlinental method, recomiPiended by Bacon, 
has gained entire ascendency in every enlightened na- 
tion of Enrope. 

Had the Cartesian mode of philosophizing continued, 
to prevail, the true system of nature had remained un- 
known. It was the banishment of authority, and. the 
investigation of nature, that revealed her secrets. If 
the influence of authority shall revive, the knowledge 
of these secrets may be withdrawn. Let, then, the 
opinions of every theorist be examined with perfect 
patience and impartiality, but never let his authority 
supply the place of argument. 

[As sources of prejudice, the authority of our fore- 
fathers, and of ancient authors, is most remarkable. It 
is granted that the ancients had many wnse and great 
men among them, and some of their writings, which 
time has delivered down to us, are truly valuable ; but 
those writers lived rather in the infant-state of the 
world, and the philosophers as well as the polite au- 
thors of our age are properly the elders, wdio have seen 
the mistakes of the younger ages of mankind, and cor- 
rected them by observation and experience. 

Some persons believe every thing that their kindred, 
their parents, and their tutors believe. I freely grant 
that parents are appointed by God and nature to teach 
us all the sentiments and practices of our younger years 
— and happy are those wdiose parents lead them into 
the paths of wisdom and truth. I grant, further, that 
when persons come to years of discretion, and judge for 
themselves, they ought to examine the oi^inions of their 
parents with the greatest modesty, and with an humble 
deference to their superior character; they ought, in 
matters perfectly dubious, to give the preference to 
their parents' advice, and always to pay them the first 
respect, nor ever depart from their opinions and prac- 



ETC. 95 

tice, till reason and conscience make it necessary. But, 
after all, it is possible that parents may be mistaken, 
and therefore reason and Scriptnre oiiglit to be our 
■final rules of determination in matters that relate to 
this world and that which is to come. 

To believe in all things as onr predecessors did, is the 
ready way to keep mankind in an everlasting state of 
infancy, and to lay an eternal bar against the improve- 
ment of our reason and of our happiness. 

Besides, let us consider that the great God, our com- 
mon Maker, has never given one man's understanding 
a legal and rightful sovereignty to determine truths for 
others, at least after they are past the state of childhood 
or minority. 'No single person, how learned, and wise, 
and great soever, or whatsoever natural, or civil, or 
ecclesiastical relation he may have to us, can claim this 
dominion over our faith. 

It is proper to take notice, however, that as education^ 
cxtstom^ and authority are no sure evidence of truth ^ so 
neither are they certain marhs of fcdsehood ; for reason 
and Scripture may join to dictate the same things 
which our parents, our tutors, our friends, and our coun- 
try believe and profess. Yet there a23pears sometimes 
in our age a pride and petulancy in youth, zealous to 
cast off the sentiments of their fathers and teachers, on 
purpose to show that they carry none of the prejudices 
of education and authority about thenr. They indulge 
all manner of licentious opinions and practices, from a 
vain pretence of asserting their liberty. But, alas ! this 
is but changing one prejudice for another, and some- 
times it happens, by this means, that they make a sac- 
rifice both of truth and virtue to the vile prejudices of 
their pride and sensuality. 

There is another tribe of jorejudices which are more 
akin to those of authority, and that is, when we receive 



\)b MANNER OF PRESENTING A DOCTRINE. 

a doctrine because of the manner in which it is pro- 
jposecl to us hy others. iN^eitlier the positive, tlie awful 
or solemn, the terrible or the gentle methods of adcli-ess, 
cany any certain evidence with them that truth lies on 
that side. In such a degenerate world as we live in, 
we must learii to distinguish well between the substance 
of any doctrine and the manner of address, either in 
proposing, attacking, or defending it — and thereby set- 
ting a just and secure guard of reason and conscience 
over all the exercises of our judgments, resolving to 
yield to nothing but the convincing evidence of truth, 
religiously obeying the light of reason in matters of pure 
reason, and the dictates of revelation in things that re- 
late to our faith, — Watts'^ Logic^ part ii. chap, iii.] 



LECTURE VII. 

RULES TO PREVENT PREJUDICES PRINCIPLES AND RULES OF 

JUDGMENT. 

I HAv^ now treated pretty fully of prejudices, to pre- 
pare us to detect them, and to put us on our guard 
against them, because they are most detrimental in the 
investigation of knowledge. I intimated formerly, that 
I intended to point out, not only the rocks and shelves, 
which w^e must avoid, but to present the compass by 
which we must steer, in order to perform a successful 
voyage on the hazardous sea of inquiry. I proceed 
to perform this promise, and to conclude the branch of 
logic under discussion, by subjoining a few rides which 
must direct om* practice, if w^e expect to form just and 
useful judgments. 



RULES TO PREVENT PREJUDICES. 97 

1. Bewoure of preGipitaiion^ and never decide concern- 
ing the truth or falsehood of any proposition^ till you 
have attended to all the preliminaries formerly men- 
tioned : whether the words accurately express the ideas, 
whether you have distinct conceptions of the ideas, 
whether your minds are divested of prejudices, and 
whether you have fully canvassed the evidence. 

I do not maintain that all this precaution is necessary 
to prevent mistake in every judgment we form. In all 
sciences, arts, and affairs, we pass many judgments 
without much attention or premeditation, because the 
agreement or disagreement of the ideas compared is 
obvious on the slightest inspection. But when the pur- 
suit of truth solicits us into new, and perhaps obscure, 
paths of inquiry; when we reach judgments, which 
lead to inferences extraordinary and alarming; or, when 
our decisions differ from those of men eminent for ca- 
pacity and discernment, or are likely to involve us in 
controversy, we should reiterate, with patient attention, 
every precaution. 

Such a practice is suitable to, and is demanded by, 
the character of a candid inquirer. It may perhaps 
retard our progress, but it will cause us to march on 
surer ground. It will habituate our minds to accuracy, 
and will give us confidence in their operations. It 
will save the irksome sensation which results from the 
detection of precipitation and mistake ; and it may pre- 
vent much trouble by excluding errors from theories, 
which, if carelessly or rashly overlooked in their prin- 
ciples, may lay in ruins the labor of many painful 
houi-s. 

The most patient investigators have always been the 
most successful inquirers, and the most prudent and 
fortunate men have generally been most remarkable 
for the candor and the coolness of their understandings. 



98 BACON AND NEWTON.' 

The two greatest philosojjhers the Avorld ever saw, Lord Bacon 
and Sir Isaac ISTewton, are in nothing so much superior to all other 
philosophers, as in the deliberation and patience with w^hich they 
proceeded in their researches. ISTo confidence, no presumption, no 
vain censure of the precipitancy of former inquirers, no zeal for 
party, no partiality to system or authority, ever inislead their 
minds or disgrace their investigations. They seek truth alone, and 
they search for her with the caution of men conscious of her im- 
portance, and of the difficulty of finding her. They embrace her 
with cordiality wherever they meet her, but they will not adopt 
speculation for fact, nor be satisfied with the semblance in place of 
the reahty. 

Prudent judgment in business chiefly distinguishes 
the wise man from the fool. The fool frequently pos- 
sesses sensibility, vivacity, recollection, and informa- 
tion. He is often in these articles superior to the man 
of wisdom and discretion, but he cannot, or will not, 
make a proper use of the materials he has provided. 
He finds ideas to agree which do not agree. He judges 
precipitately and erroneously. His conduct is directed 
by his judgments. His opinions, accordingly, expose 
him to ridicule and contempt, and his actions to re- 
proach and misfortune. 

The essence of wisdom, on the other hand, consists in 
the passing of just judgments on the men and the 
things about which, in the affairs of life, we are called 
to decide. It is the offspring or companion of discern- 
ment, and discernment is nothing more than that ^Dru- 
dent examination, previous to judgment, which leads to 
decide according to truth. The wise man, it is said, 
sees farther into futurity than other men, or excels in 
the faculty of anticipation ; but this superiority is an 
evidence only of the accuracy of his judgment relative 
to things past. He supposes that future events, in 
similar circumstances, will resemble the past. His 
conceptions of the past are accurate, and he can scarce- 
ly err in his opinions of the future. 



SUSPENSE ES- JUDGING. 



2. If^ after employing every preccmtion^ you still 
find iiiforination incomj^lete^ or ideas not sufficiently 
clear ^ suspend judgment till farther investigation or 
greater experience shall qualify you to decide. 

I am aware that this rule may be supposed to be 
comprehended under the preceding ; because, if we 
never judge with precipitation, we must, eventually, 
suspend that operation whenever the evidence is not 
satisfactory. But the prudent and rational conduct this 
rule inculcates is so momentous, both in science and in 
business, that it appeared to merit a separate enuncia- 
tion and illustration. 

A degree of skepticism, which presupposes a doubt 
of the truth of every proposition w^e have not examined, 
is requisite to every candid inquirer. But to many 
minds hesitation and suspense are uneasy feelings, and 
they are impatient to reach a determination. In many 
instances, if we proceed with propriety, we must ob- 
serve the necessity of suspense of judgment, because 
our inquiries terminate in subjects beyond our compre- 
hension. The cases, however, to which I would espe- 
cially apply this rule, are those in which judgment 
comes within our comprehension ; but we hesitate, 
either because ideas are not sufficiently distinct, or be- 
cause we have not discovered the intermediate steps 
whi^h show their relation. In such cases a candid in- 
quirer must suspend judgment, because he can do noth- 
ing else. Should he go on, it is perfect accident if he 
reach a just determination. 

When the mind is embarrassed and perplexed, it is 
often proper to relinquish the subject of inquiry for 
some time ; and to resume it, after an interval of other 
employment. Its faculties retujii to the charge with 
new vigor, more experience, quicker discernment, and 
frequently with success. But the more common method 



100 SUSPENSE IN JUDGING. 

is, to pore upon the topic which engages attention, and 
instead of seeking for intermediate ideas, if it be a sub- 
ject of argument, or further information, if it be a mat- 
ter of fact, the inquirer retires to his closet, and forms 
theories which have no foundation either in reason or 
in truth. This spirit is fortunately banished, in a great 
measure, from the regions of 23hiloso23hy, but it still re- 
mains in politics and in business. 

A theoretical politician is exceedingly wise in conversation, but 
his speculations are rarely verified by experience. He proceeds on 
fallacious principles. He reasons on the supposition, that the mo- 
tives and conduct of men are what they should be ; or that men 
will act from steady principles of justice or interest. But the far 
greater part of their actions is the result of unaccountable at- 
tachment or passion, of fanc}^, feeling, whim, caprice. These can 
make no part of any theory, because they transcend all rules of 
calculation, and falsify every conclusion founded on reason and 
common sense. A man, therefore, who wishes to gain real influ- 
ence in the world, will never rest resolutions on speculation. He 
will mix with mankind, and accommodate his opinions to charac- 
ters and circumstances ; and if these lead not to decision, he will 
patiently suspend judgment, and remain inactive ; or he will act so 
ambiguously, that he may avail himself of better information when 
it shall occur. 

Busjpense of judgment^ at least suspense in uttering 
judgments, if they contain any thing harsh, disagree- 
able, unpleasant, or even unpolite, is particularly neces- 
sary in all good company, and among all men of Ivnowl- 
edge. Without this exercise of civility we cannot ex- 
pect to be favored with the communications of superior 
information. We cannot render ourselves acceptable 
to those from whom we may derive the most essential 
benefits. We shall discompose and embarrass delicate 
society, we shall be exposed to critical reprehension, or 
involved in controversy, the bane of all good inter- 
course, and insuperable impediments in the acquisition 
of truth. 



SATISFACTIOI'T WITH PROPER EVIDENCE. 101 

Modesty in judgment is peculiarly graceful and 
promising in young inquirers. It is always interpreted 
in the most favorable sense ; as a mark of ingenuousness, 
and a consciousness of the difficulty of attaining useful 
knowledge ; dispositions which powerfully solicit liberal 
and enlightened minds to impart important aid. On 
the other hand, petulance, forwardness, and presump- 
tion, subject young inquirers to every disadvantage, and 
to many mortifications. They alarm men of superior 
parts and improvement, and render them averse to in- 
timacy with persons from whom nothing is to be ex- 
pected but irritation and disgust. They bring into sus- 
picion the soundness of their understandings ; so that 
these can hardly obtain the reputation of just judgment 
even when it is deserved. 

3. Be satisfied with the evidence which the nature of 
a 'proposition admits. 

To decide without evidence, is weakness and absur- 
dity. To be satisfied with no evidence, is skepticism. 
To demand the same kind or degree of evidence for 
every proposition, is unnatural and unreasonable. The 
propositions of science, of arts, and of business, are sup- 
ported by difierent kinds of evidence. No candid rea- 
soner will demand the same species of evidence for 
them all. He is entitled to no other than the nature of 
each affords. Few subjects admit that complete convic- 
tion which excludes the possibility of doubt. The far 
greater part presents only higher or lower degrees of 
^probability. Though in the sciences of quantity the 
mind proceeds on the firm ground of demonstration, it 
would be absurd to expect equal satisfaction in morals, 
politics, or natural history, because these sciences are 
incapable of such evidence. 

Moral and political propositions are supported by evidence de- 
duced from the human constitution, the order of nature, the hap- 



102 COMPAEATIVE VALUE OF TESTIMONY. 

piness of individuals, and of communities, wliicli is far from being 
so conclusive and direct as to exclude hesitation, or even difference 
of opinion : yet these propositions involve truths very important to 
mankind. The rewards or punishments, assigned, by their own 
minds, by the opinions of their fellow-creatures, and by the laws of 
society, depend upon them. 

In natural history, which furnishes an account of animals, vege- 
tables, and minerals: in geography, which supplies instruction con- 
cerning the surface of the earth, what parts are covered with land 
or water, where hills, valleys, capes, cities are situated, tides run, 
and winds blow : in civil history, Avhich recounts the transactions, 
opinions, and manners of nations in former times : in the adminis- 
tration of justice and civil government, which applies the laws of 
the community to the actions of individuals, in order to protect the 
lives and property of the innocent, and to punish the guilty : in the 
relations we daily receive from foreign countries, concerning the 
public events of nations, or the industry, customs, and sentiments 
of individuals : — in all these cases we must depend upon the evi- 
dence of testimony ; and if the information be not in its nature in- 
credible, and we have no reason to question the veracity of the 
relater, we ought to be satisfied with that evidence. 

Testimony is perhaps among the least satisfactory 
channels bj Avhicli truth is conveyed to the mind. It 
is less satisfactory than those of intuition and reasoning, 
at least in the sciences of qiiantity. It is also inferior 
to those of consciousness and sensation; but it is, not- 
withstanding, of high importance to the comfort, peace, 
and happiness of society, l^o inconvenience results 
from following it with discretion. Were it rejected, 
every disorder and danger would ensue. Man is made 
to be satisfied with it. His situation often admits noth- 
ing more convincing. It was chiefly to vindicate the 
credibility of this species of evidence, to which inquirers 
sometimes will not allow the influence it deserves, that 
I advanced the rule under consideration ; and it may 
not be improper to sketch the limits within which this 
evidence appears to be unexceptionable. 



EVIDENCE OF TESTIMONY. 103 

Tlie first thing to be considered, then, is the nature 
of the narration which solicits our helief j becanse, if 
it be incredible, we need not go farther ; we may reject 
the testimony without examination, becanse v/e are 
more certain that what is incredible cannot be true, than 
we can be certain of the truth of any testimony. A 
narration is incredible in two ways, either by containing 
an action in itself impracticable, or by containing cir- 
cumstances contradictory to one another. 

If, for instance, we were told, that an ordinary man bore a 
mountain on his back from Italy to France; or that there are men 
in the world who believe two and three make six ; we would reject 
such relations as unworthy of the least credit, because they con- 
tain actions and opinions which contradict all our conceptions and 
experience of human powers and faculties. If, again, a relation 
represent the performer of an action in different places at the same 
time, we refuse credit, because it involves a contradiction, and sup- 
poses the coexistence of things which we know to be impossible. 
But if the action be practicable, if the agent be adequate to the per- 
formance, and if the account be intelligible and consistent, the next 
step is to examine the nature of the testimony ; and if that also be 
unexceptionable, the mind is prepared to believe, and it wiU be im- 
patient if not permitted to bestow assent. 

The circicmstances of inquiry relative to the credi- 
hility of the testimony^ are, whether the relater was 
fully informed of the nature and particulars of the ac- 
tion ; and whether he could be seduced by any temp- 
tation to misrepresent them. 

The article oi full information may be subdivided 
into several other inquiries ; whether the action was an 
object of the senses of the relater ; whether he had full 
time to examine it, and possessed the perfect use of his 
faculties at the time of examination ; whether he exam- 
ined the same action, or similar actions, at diiferent 
times, and always formed similar judgments; and, 



104: EVIDENCE OF TESllMONY. 

finally, whether tliis account is supported, at least not 
contradicted, by other accounts of credit.* 

With regard to the character of the relater^ we have 
reason to rely on his veracity, if we have no cause to 
doubt it ; and if, at the same time, marks of sincerity, 
attention, or discernment appear, we cannot demand 
better foundation for assent. If an historian be exposed 
to no temptation to falsify or misrepresent, we suj^pose 
that he relates the truth ; because it is much more easy 
to relate truth than to relate falsehood. Truth requires 
no anxious caution to preserve consistency, no struggle 
to repress the remonstrances of conscience, which even 
the most abandoned men cannot altogether silence. It 
follows the natural and consistent train of causes and 
effects. It presents a credibility and authority which 
command conviction. 

But if, besides a general attachment to truth, we dis- 
cover in an historian other symptoms of integrity, such 
as relating truth when it was his interest to conceal or 
misrepresent it, when it might hurt friends, gratify ene- 
mies, or expose himself to danger from the resentment 
of those whom it might offend ; we have the best reason 
to credit his testimony ; because he discovers not only 
great attachment to truth, but the strongest aversion to 
falsehood, and evinces, that the temptations which in- 
duce men of little virtue to disguise truth, and those of 
no virtue to suppress it, do not affect him. He is at 



[* Says Dr. Whately : " When the question is as to a fact, it is plain we 
have to look chiefly to the Tionesty of a witness, his accuracy, and his means 
of getting information. When the question is about a matter of opinion, it 
is equally plain that his ability to form a judgment is no less to be taken 
into account. But though this is admitted by all, it is very common with in- 
considerate persons to overlook, in practice, the distinction, and to mistake 
as to what it is that, in each case, is attested." 

For further excellent remarks on Testimony, consult Whately's Khetoric, 
part i. chap. ii. § 4.] 



EVIDENCE OF TESTIMONY. 105 

least sincere, and his testimony must be believed, nnless 
it can be proved that he was misinformed or mistaken. 

If a narration be consistent, the only ground for 
charging its author with mistake or misinformation, is 
its contradiction of other accounts of credit, or its con- 
taining transactions of which we can explain neither the 
motives nor the manner. If two historians contradict 
one another, which seldom happens unless in cases of 
the most violent prevalence of party spirit, the evidence 
of both will be destroyed, or the small portion of credit 
that remains will operate in favor of the more respecta- 
ble author. If one author omit what is related by 
another, the omission may excite suspicion, but forms 
no direct argument against the credibility ; because 
many circumstances unknown to us might occasion the 
oversio:ht of which we complain. 

IS^either is the containing of transactions, of which 
we cannot explain the motives or the manner, a good 
argument against the authenticity of a narrative ; be- 
cause the dehciency may be chai'geable on the hearer 
or the reader, not on the relater. Men of all ages 
measure the motives, opinions, and actions of others, 
however different from themselves in constitution, or 
dissimilar in situation, by their own; and w^e need not 
be told that nothing can be more fallacious than such a 
standard. A remarkable passage of history may be 
produced to illustrate this observation. 

Herodotus, in travelling to collect materials for his history of 
Greece, received intelligence that some Phoenician seamen had em- 
harked on the Red Sea, sailed round the south coast of Africa, and 
returned home by the Columns of Hercules, or the Straits of Gib- 
raltar. In which voyage they must have circumnavigated the 
Cape of Good Hope, commonl}^ accounted one of the most brilliant 
discoveries of modern enterprise. The historian subjoins his own 
opinion ; that the incident was incredible, because the voyagers re- 
ported that in some part of their navigations they had beheld the 

5« 



106 PRACTICE OF KULES OF LOGIC. 

ecliptic, or the line of motion of the sim, situated to the -north of 
the zenith of their course. The historian, however, judged by a 
false standard ; he condemned as incredible what he did not under- 
stand; because it was unknown, perhaps, in his time, that the ap- 
pearance specified actually takes place, in the navigation he had 
related. He reprobates the account for a circumstance which is 
the most plausible characteristic of its authenticity; for it could 
hardly be supposed to have been conjectured unless it had been 
seen. 

I have now offered every rule and observation which 
appeared of importance to be attended to in forming 
our judgments in science, arts, and business. I have 
unfolded the sources of those prejudices which obstruct 
the rectitude of our judgments ; I have inculcated pa- 
tience and attention in forming them when we have fall 
information ; I have enjoined suspense of judgment 
when information is wanting or deficient ; I have rec- 
ommended, finally, satisfaction with the best evidence 
that can be procured, and the propriety of judging and 
acting on that evidence. I know nothing more that 
can be done to render our judgments sound and logic- 
al, but that we carefully habituate ourselves to the 
practice of these rules. Without practice in this art, 
as in all others, performance will be awkward and im- 
perfect; the rules will soon be forgotten, or will cease 
to have eifect. They may become the subject of a little 
speculation, or conversation, perhaps ; but will be of 
no service in the search of truth or in the conduct of 
life. 

A man ignorant of all rule, but habituated to candid 
and diligent exercise of his faculties, will decide more 
expeditiously and accurately than one skilled in all the 
theory of reasoning without the practice. Ko theory 
of any art can make an expert practitioner. Logic 
pretends not to make mechanical reasoners. All it 
does, all it can do, is to show the way to find out truth, 



PRINCIPLES AND RULES OF JUDGIMENT. 107 

and to guide tlie exertions of our faculties in the pur- 
suit of it. But if inquirers will neither travel in the 
road that leads to the temj)le of truth, nor employ their 
faculties to discriminate her when they have reached 
her sacred residence ; if they will not attempt to ob- 
tain an acquaintance and intimacy with her, her hand- 
maid, logic, can furnish them no further service. She 
must leave them to that ignorance and insignificance to 
which they seem consigned by nature ; and must solace 
herself by lending aid to candidates who will be more 
grateful for her favors, and improve them to better 
advantage. 



PEIE"OIPLES AND RULES OF JUDGMENT 

IN MATTERS 01^ REASON AND SPECULATION. 
[Condensed from Watts' Logic, Part II., Chapter V.] 

1. Whatsoever is sitfficiently dear and evident ought 
not to he denied^ though there are other things belong- 
ing to the sarne siibject which cannot he comjprehended. 

2. If any opinion jprojposed has equal arguments for 
and against it^ we must remain in peofect suspense 
about it till convincing evidence appear on one side, 

3. Of two opinions^ if one has unanswerable difficul- 
ties attending it^ we must not reject it immediately^ but 
ascertain whether the contrary opinion has not difiicul- 
ties as unanswerable. 

4. If each opinion has ohjections against it which 
we cannot answer or reconcile^ we should rather em,- 
hrace that lohich has the least difficulties in it, and 
which has the best arguments to support it ; and let 
our assent bear proportion to the superior evidence. 

5. If any' doctrine has very strong and sufficient evi- 
dence to command our assent^ we should not reject it 



108 PEINCIPLES AND KULES OF JUDGMENT. 

because there are some objections urged against it vMcJi 
■we may not he able to answer ; for otherwise a common 
Christian would be baffled out of every article of his 
faith, and must renounce even the dictates of his reason 
and his senses. 

6. Where tiuo extremes are jprojoosed^ either in tnat- 
ter of sjpecMlation or practice^ and neither of them has 
convincing evidence^ it is generally safest to take the 
middle way^ which is more likely to come near the 
truth than doubtful extremes. 

7. When two different pro;positions have eacJi very 
strong evidence^ and do not plainly appear inconsistent^ 
we may believe both of them ^ though ive cannot at pres- 
ent see the way to reconcile them. Reason, as w^ell as 
our own consciousness, assures us that the will of man 
is free, and that multitudes of human actions are in that 
respect contingent ; and yet reason and scripture assure 
us that God foreknows them all, and this implies a cer- 
tain fatality. ITow, though learned men have not to 
this day hit on any so clear and happy method as is 
desired to reconcile these propositions, yet since we do 
not see a pla,in inconsistency in them we justly believe 
them both, because their evidence is great. 

8. Let us not, therefore, too suddenly determine in 
diffloult matters, that two things are utterly inconsist- 
ent ; for there are many propositions which may ap- 
pear inconsistent at first, and yet afterwards we find 
their consistency, and the way of reconciling them may 
be made plain and easy ; as also there are other propo- 
sitions which may appear consistent at first, but after 
due examination we find their inconsistency. 

9. For the same reason we should not call those diffU 
cutties ^utterly insoluble, or those objections unanswera- 
ble, which we are not preseiitly cible to answer. Time 
and diligence may give more light. 



PRINCIPLES AND EULES OF JUDGIMENT. 109 

10. If WG ha/pj)e7i to have our cliief arguments for 
any opinion refuted^ loe sJiould not hnmediately give 
up the opinion itself ^ for, perhaps, it may be a truth 
still, and we may find it to be supported by other argu- 
ments, which we might once think weaker, or perhaps 
by new arguments which we knew not before. 

11. We ought to esteem that to he sufficient evidence of 
a proposition where hoth the hind and the force of the 
arguments or proofs are as great as the nature of the 
thing admits^ and as the necessity or exigence of the 
case reguires. So if we have a credible and certain 
testimony that Christ rose from the dead, we are not to 
expect mathematical or ocular demonstration for it, at 
least in our day. 

12. Though we should seek what proofs may be at- 
tained of any proposition, and we should receive any 
number of arguments which are just and evident for the 
confirmation of the same truth, yet we 'must not jttdge 
of the truth of any 'proposition ly the numher of argu- 
ments which are hrought in support of it^ but by the 
strength and weight of them. 

13. Yet where certain evidence is not to he found or 
expected^ a considerable number of prohahle argiiments 
carry great weight with them even in matters of specu- 
lation. That is a probable hypothesis in philosophy or 
theology, which goes farthest towards the solution of 
many difiicult questions arising on any subject. 



IN MATTERS OF MORALITY AND RELIGION. 

Ey matters of morality and religion, are meant thos< 
things which relate to our duty to God, ourselves, or oui 
fellow-men. The words vice and virtue chiefly imply 
the relation of our actions to men and this world : sin 



110 PRINCIPLES AND KULES OF JUDGMENT. 

and holiness rather imply their relation to God and the 
other world. 

1. Tlie will of our Maker, whether discovered by reason 
or revelation, carries the highest authority with it, and 
is therefore the highest rule of duty to intelligent crea- 
tures ; a conformity or non-conformity to which, deter- 
mines their actions to be morally good or evil. 

2. "Whatsoever is really an immediate duty towards 
ourselves, or towards our fellow-creatures, is more re- 
motely a duty to God, and therefore in the practice of 
it we should have an eye to the will of God as our Eule, 
and to his glory as our End. 

3. Our wise and gracious Creator has closely united 
our duty and our happiness together, and has connected 
sin or vice and punishment together, both in the nature 
of things and by his own positive appointment. 

4. Conscience should seek all due information in order 
to determine what is duty and what is sin, because hap- 
piness and misery depend uj)on it. 

5. On this account our inclination to present temporal 
good, and our aversion to present temporal evil, must 
be wisely overbalanced by the consideration of future 
and eternal good or evil; that is, happiness or misery: 
and for this reason we should not omit or commit a 
sin, to gain any temporal good or to avoid any temporal 
evil. 

6. As there are some duties much more important 
than others are, so every duty requires our application 
to understand and practise it, in j)roportion to its im- 
portance. 

Y. Where two duties seem to stand in opposition to 
each other, and we cannot practise both, the less must 
give way to the greater, and the omission of the less is 
not sinful. 

8. In actions where there may be some scruple about 



EULES IN MATTERS OF HUMAN PRUDENCE. Ill 

the duty or lawfulness of them, we shoukl choose always 
the safest side, and abstain as far as we can from the 
practice of things whose lawfulness w^e suspect. 

9. In some of the outward practices and forms of re- 
ligion, as well as human affairs, there is frequently a 
present necessity of speedy action in one way or another. 
In such a case, having surveyed the arguments on both 
sides, as far as time and circumstances adniit, we must 
guide our practice by those reasons which seem at the 
time to overbalance the rest ; yet always reserving room 
to admit further light and evidence when such occur- 
rences return again. It is a preponderation of circum- 
stantial arguments that must determine our actions in a 
thousand cases. 



IN MATTERS OF HUMAN PRUDENCE. 

1. Our regard to persons or things should be gov- 
erned by the degrees of concernment we have with 
them, the relation we have to them, or the expectation 
we have from them. 

2. We should always consider whether the thing w^e 
pursue be attainable ; whether it be worthy of our pur- 
suit ; whether it be worthy of the means used in order 
to attain it. 

3. Though a general knowdedge of things be useful 
in science and in human life, yet we should content 
ourselves with a more superficial knowledge of those 
things which have the least relation to our chief end 
and design. We should not grasp at every thing, lest in 
the end we attain nothing. 

4. Where the case and circumstances of wise and 
good men resemble our own case and circumstances, 
we may borrow a great deal of instruction towards our 



112 RULES IN MATTERS OF DIVINE TESTIMONY. 

present conduct from tlieir example ; as well as in all 
cases we may learn much from their conversation and 
advice. 



IN MATTERS OF DIVINE TESTIMONY. 

As human testimony acquaints us with matters of 
fact, both past and present, which lie beyond the reach 
of our own personal notice ; so Divine testimony is 
suited to inform us both of the nature of things, as well 
as of matters of fact ; and of things future, as well as of 
present or past. 

Whatsoever is dictated to us by God himself, or by 
men who are divinely inspired, must be believed with 
full assurance. Reason demands of us to Relieve what- 
soever Divine revelation dictates ; for God is j)erfectly 
wise, and cannot be deceived ; he is faithful and good, 
and will not deceive his creatures ; and when reason 
has found out certain marks or credentials of Divine 
testimony to belong to any proposition, there remains 
then no further inquiry to be made, but only to find out 
the true sense and meaning of that which God has re- 
vealed J for reason itself demands the belief of it. 



DIFFKEENT KIHDS OF EBASONING. H3 



LECTURE VIII. 

REASONING MATHEMATICAL MORAL POLITICAL PRUDEN- 
TIAL PROBABLE REASONING. 

I HAYE discussed every topic introductory to the art 
of reasoning. I have explained the sources from which 
ideas are received, and the methods we must employ to 
render them clear, adequate, and conclusive. I have 
explained the nature of the propositions into which 
they may be formed, and the judgments which we 
must pass on these propositions. I have, finally, de- 
lineated the prejudices which pervert our judgments ; 
and I have attempted to establish the rules we must 
follow, if we expect to form them with accuracy and 
justice. It remains only, to complete this department 
of the course, that I treat of reasoning^ or the r)ietJiod 
of asceHaining jpropositions^ hy means of intermediate 
ideas^ or jproofs^ whether demonstrative or probable. 

I formerly observed, that all knowledge is either 
intuitive, demonstrative, or probable. The first, intui- 
tive knowledge, is so extremely circumscribed, that if 
man had no other method of comparing ideas, and ex- 
tending information, though he might be wiser than the 
beasts of the field or the fowls of the air, yet he would 
be ignorant of all science and arts. All individuals 
and communities would be nearly in the same state of 
improvement. The only difference among them would 
result from their quickness or sagacity in perceiving 
self evident propositions. 

As it is, then, the exercise of his reasoning faculty by 
which man attains the most decisive eminence in the 



114 THE PROCESS OF REASONING. 

creation, by which he ascends far above the inferior 
animals, and by which different men and different com- 
mmiities are conspicuously exalted one above another, 
in all those acquisitions which cultivate, civilize, adorn, 
and enlighten the mind of man, it is a matter of the 
most important concern to examine wdiat sort of opera- 
tion reasoning is, how we shall perform it with most 
expedition and success, and how we shall avoid those 
errors b}^ which many reasoners in all ages have been 
led astray. To assist in this delicate and arduous un- 
dertaking, is the object of the discussion on which I ain 
now to enter. 

Reasoning hegins whei^e intuition ends^ and consists 
in finding out the truth of a proposition^ or the agree- 
ment or disagreement of its sicbject and jpredicate^ by 
the help of intermediate ideas. The intermediate ideas 
form the steps, or links, by which the mind passes from 
the first of the primary ideas to the last, or from the 
subject of any proposition to its predicate, and finally 
perceives their relation. Reasoning assumes different 
names, according to the nature of the steps, or of the 
links which display the relation between the primary 
ideas. If the mind attain complete satisfaction in every 
step of its progress, or in the successive comparison of 
every pair of ideas, it is said to acquire certainty of the 
agreement or disagreement of the two primary ideas, 
and the reasoning is called demonstrative. 

If the agreement of the intermediate ideas with one 
another and with the extremes is not perfectly satisfac- 
tory — that is, if the steps of the reasoning leave the 
mind under some degree of hesitation, the reasoning is 
denominated prohalle^ and the reasoner attains proba- 
bility only of the truth of the proposition he investigates. 
Where certainty terminates, probability commences; 
and the latter admits numerous degrees, from the high- 



115 

est degree, which stands next to certainty, to the lowest, 
which makes so little impression as to permit the mind 
to remain in a state of suspense. 

If a proposition, supported by probable evidence, re- 
late to speculation, the judgment formed concerning it 
is often called oj)inion ; if it relate to facts, chiefly sup- 
ported by testimony, the judgment is generally called 
heliefy^ In explaining, then, the branch of logic now 



["" Beliefs and degrees of helief. In forming any judgment, we cannot 
avoid attaching to it a particular degree of credence, which might be, and 
often is, expressed by the insertion of some adverb to qualify the copula, 
thus : "To-morrow will (possibly) be fine;" and, "Two straight lines (in- 
disputably) cannot inclose a space." Although one of these judgments 
admits a degree of doubt which the other excludes, the difference lies in 
our knowledge of the tilings spoken of, rather than in the things them- 
selves. 

The amount of belief whicli we have in our judgment has been called its 
mo'lality, as being the mode in which we hold it for truth. Arranging the 
degrees of modality in an ascending scale, we find that a judgment may be — 

1. Possible, where, upon the first view, we have no cause to think that 
the predicate may not be truly said of the subject, but have not examined. 
Does this amount to a judgment? or is it the step which must precede the 
formation of the weakest kind of judgment? 

2. Doubtful, where we have tested it in some cases, and found that some 
seem to confirm it, whilst some are doubtful. 

3. Probable, where all the trials we have made are favorable, but the 
number of them is not sufficient to warrant certainty. 

4. Morally certain for the thinker himself, where, from examination oi 
the matter, or prejadioe, or interest, he has formed his own belief, but can- 
not put Ibrward sufficient grounds for it, so as to control that of others. 

5. Morally certain for a class or school, where the judgment rests on 
grounds which are sufficient for all men of the same habits of thought, or 
the same education as the thinker. 

6. Morally certain for all ; as, for example, the belief that there is a future 
state, which, though not absolutely demonstrable, rests upon such grounds 
that it ought to influence the conduct {niores) of every man, 

7. Physically certain, with a limit, where the judgment is grounded on 
an induction supposed to be complete, but with the possibility that future 
induction may supersede it. 

8. Physically certain, without limitation ; as our belief in the law of 
gravitation, the law of chemical affinity, &c. 

i). Mathematically certain, where doubt cannot be admitted. Ex. gr., 
the axiom — "Two straight lines cannot inclose a space ;" or the theorem, 
"The angles at the base of an isosceles triangle are equal." 



116 DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING. 

before ns, all we have to do is to discuss, Jlrst, the na- 
ture of demonstrative reasoning ; secondly, that of 
jproljdble reasoning ; and to jpoint out the sciences and 
arts in which they are respectively ern])loyed. All rea- 
soning is either of the one kind or the other ; and in 
every science or art in Vv'hich conviction reaches not 
certainty, we must be content with probability. After 
I have finished the explanation of legitimate reasoning, 
I shall investigate the nature of sophistry, and point out 
the chief methods by which mankind in all ages have 
imposed on themselves, or misled others. I shall con- 
clude the course with an account of the syllogism of 
Aristotle, and a discussion of its merit as a mode of 
reasoning.^' 

MatJiematics and arithmetic, I must again remark, 
are the only sciences susceptible of demonstrative proof , 
which is so satisfactory and cogent as to exclude even 
the supposition of falsehood. Other sciences in their 
principles may perhaps furnish proofs nearly, if not 
completely demonstrative ; but in the detail they ex- 
hibit nothing better than probability. The high evi- 
dence of the sciences of quantity, independent of the 
importance of the truths they teach, renders them a 
good exemplili cation of the rules of logic ; and one ot 
the best methods of becoming a good reasoner, is to be 
familiar with the processes of investigation they supply. 



All these degrees of belief maj^, upon a broader principle of division, be 
resolved into three. Our judgments, according to Aristotle, are either 
problematical, assertive, or demonstrable — the results of opinion, of belief, 
or of science. — Thomson's Laws of ThougM^ §120.] 

[* The word reasoning is ambiguous. In one of its acceptations, it 
means syllogism, or the mode of inference which may be called concluding 
from generals to particulars. In another of its senses, to reason, is simply 
to infer any assertion from assertions already admitted, and in this sense 
induction is as much entitled to be called reasoning as the demonstrations 
of geometry. — Mills^ Logic.'] 



DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING. 117 

To illustrate the nature of demonstrative reasoning, 
I shall analyze some propositions of the Elements of 
Euclid. Reasoning is a successive comparison of every 
pair of ideas, from the first to the last, or from the idea 
which forms the subject of the proposition, to the one 
which forms the predicate ; and in demonstration every 
comparison is intuitively certain. When these ideas 
are found to agree, the demonstration is finished, and 
the reasoning is concluded. I begin with the first prop- 
osition of the first book of the Elements, which proposes, 
" To describe an equilateral triangle on a given straight 
line." I pass over the operations by which the triangle 
in the figure is described, because I mean to analyze 
only the reasoning of the proposition. 

After the figure is constructed on the given line, the proposition 
to be proved is, that " the triangle so constructed is equilateral, or 
has all its sides equal." The subject of the proposition, or the first 
idea of it, is that of the triangle described ; the predicate of the 
proposition, or the second idea of it, is that of the equafity of the 
sides of the triangle. Now, it is not intuitively certain that the 
three sides are all equal to one another ; therefore some interme- 
diate ideas must be placed' between the subject and the predicate 
of the proposition, to show their agreement. The process consists 
of two steps, or one intermediate idea is necessary to prove the 
proposition. The first step is the com- 
parison of the base A B with one of the 
sides A ; and of their equality we have 
intuitive certainty, because, by the de- 
scription of the figure, they are semi- 
diameters, or radii of the same circle. 
The second step is the comparison of the same side or base A B 
with the other side B ; and of their equality, also, we have intui- 
tive certainty, as they are both semi-diameters of another circle. 
This step finishes the demonstration. The base is found to agree 
with both the sides; and the triangle must be equilateral,. because 
all the sides are equal. The subject and predicate of the proposition 
are found exactly to agree. 

In the famous forty-seventh proposition of the first book of the 




118 



DEMONSTRATIVE REASONING. 



Elements, the truth to be established is, " That in a right-angled 
triangle, the square of the side opposite to the right angle ix? equal 
in quantity to the sum of the squares of the other sides." The 
square opposite to the right angle is the subject, the sum of the two 
other squares is the predicate, and the idea of the extent of the first 
square is to be compared with the idea of the sum of the other two 
squares. The process is long and beautiful, and I shall point out 
the different steps. 

The first step is to prove that G A is one straight line, and 
H AB another, in order to lay a foundation for demonstrating that 
the triangle FB C is equal to half the square FA, and the triangle 
A B D equal to half the parallelogram 
B L. The next step is to prove the tri- 
angle A B D equal to the triangle F B 0. 
The third step is to prove the triangle 
A B D equal to half the parallelogram 
B L, and the triangle F B C equal to half 
the square FA; and hence to infer the 
equality of the square FA to the parallel- 
ogram B L. Three similar steps are ne- 
cessary to find the square A K equal to 
the parallelogram L ; and hence to infer the equality of the whole 
square B E to the two squares FA and AK, which establishes the 
agreement of the subject and predicate of the proposition; or that 
the square of the side opposite to the right angle, is equal to the 
squares of the two other sides. To complete this process, then, 
there are necessary these six capital steps, and each of these in- 
cludes one or more subordinate steps, so that the sum of the sub- 
ordinate steps amounts to no fewer than twelve ; and if these are 
added to the six capital ones, it appears, that to prove this propo- 
sition, there are requisite eighteen intermediate ideas. The mind 
has a clear and distinct perception of the agreement of every pair 
of ideas ; and as the effect is proportional to the cause, it obtains 
the most complete certainty of the truth of the proposition.* 

All reasoning has .this in common with demonstra- 
tion^ that the agreement or disagreement of the primary 
ideas must be proved by intermediate ideas ; the differ- 




[* Dr. Abercrombie fnniislies some adinh-able remarks upon mathe- 
matical reasonlDg, pp. 202-4, Iiitell. Powers.'] 



PEOBAELE KEASONING. 119 

ence is^ that the agreement of the intermediate ideas 
with one another, and with their primary ideas, amounts 
not to certainty ; it is no more tlian probable."^ 

From this view it will appear, that the far greater 
part of liiiowledge^ and even the most interesting and 
important part ^ tliat which concerns morality, politics, 
the useful arts, and business, is not supported hy hetter 
evidence than prohahility. The probability, however, 
in many cases is highly convincing, approaches very 
near to certainty, and affords good ground for acting 
upon it with perfect confidence and satisfaction. It has 
often been wished, and sometimes asserted, that mo- 
rality particularly might be fortified with the evidence 
of certainty ; but there is much reason to apprehend 
that the undertaking would be unsuccessful. The duties 
mankind owe to the Author of nature, to their fellow- 
creatures, and to themselves, though palpable and ob- 
vious in their principles, yet when pursued through the 
ramifications in wdiich they unfold themselves, they 
deviate into relations where the agreement of ideas is 
neither clear nor adequate. 

That all men should revere their Maker, and should perform 
every duty they conceive will be acceptable to him ; that they 
should do good to their fellow-creatures, and should not Avantonly 
hurt or injure them ; that they should live in temperance and mod- 
eration, in order to insure the highest happiness their constitutions 
can enjoy ; are all conclusions, of the justness of ivhich nobody can 
doubt, any more, perhaps, than they can doubt that two and three 
make five, or that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two 
right angles. The agreement of the idea we have of man, with 
"those [which we have] of his Creator, and our fellow-creature, infers 
these duties with an evidence which approaches very near, if it do 
not reach, demonstration. But Avhen we descend to investigate the 



\^ At tlie close of the lecture will be added, from the pen of the late 
Dr. George Payne, an admirable view of the nature of Probable Eeasoning, 
which should be carefully studied and mastered.] 



120 EXAMPLES OF PROBABLE REASONING. 

nature of pcarticular acts of regard to God, or of intercourse with 
our fellow-creatures ; our scale applies not accurately, the agree- 
ment or disagreement of ideas is not perfectly clear ; and we are 
not certain, at least we do not agree, where regard to the Almighty 
terminates, and disregard begins; where justice or charity ceases, 
and inj iistice or severity commences. Till this can be done, we have 
no reason to expect that the precepts of morality shall be supported 
by the evidence of demonstration. 

The same species of reasoning applies to the evidence 
of other sciences, of arts, and of business. In them all 
the mind discovers only Qnoral certainty^ that is, differ- 
ent degrees of probable evidence, according as the 
agreement of ideas is more or less clear and satisfactory. 
To illustrate these observations, I shall j)i'odnce a few 
exani2?les. Suppose some reasoning were employed to 
recommend the love of God, or to prove this proposi- 
tion, that man onght to love God. The agreement of 
ideas in moral reasoning, I have formerly observed, re- 
lates to projDriety, fitness, reasonableness. The propo- 
sition, then, involves the question whether the idea we 
have of such an imperfect, dependent creature as man, 
ao:rees with the idea of his exerting; love towards the 
great, wise, and good Being who made the universe, or 
whether it be fit, proper, and right that man should love 
God? 

To prove this proposition, I might employ several intermediate 
ideas ; I might first show that the Almighty is the most amiable 
Being in the universe, and that he possesses all those attributes of 
goodness, wisdom, and power, most calculated to excite attachment. 
The amiableness of God would thus involve a large collection of 
particulars, or subordinate ideas, which altogether would constitute 
what, in the science of morals, is denominated an argument. I 
might prove, secondly^ that the love of God is the surest means of 
happiness to ourselves. It will communicate self-approbation, con- 
fidence in the wisdom of Providence and the administration of hu- 
man affairs; and will extirpate those anxieties and fears which 
haunt and distract weak and vicious men. The illustration of thes^ 



EXAMPLES OF PROBABLE REASONING. 121 

topics, also, would include a great number of subordinate ideas, and 
would constitute another argument for the love of God. I might 
further insist that love to God is reasonable and proper, in return 
for the numerous instances of kindness, mercy, and love, he daily- 
exerts towards us. The illustration of these instances, likewise, 
would comprehend many subordinate ideas, and would furnish a 
third argument in support of the proposition. 

Suppose, again, it were to be inferred from future 
punishment that men must be free agents, or that the 
idea of future punishment agrees with that of self- 
determination, or the freedom of action. The following 
train of intermediate ideas will show that agreement. 

Future punishment must be inflicted by the Almighty ; the Al- 
mighty can inflict no punishment not just ; the punished, of course, 
must be guilty ; they could, then, have done otherwise, and conse- 
quently must be free agents. This train of ideas, more shortly ex- 
pressed, will stand thus : Future punishment — God the punisher — 
punishment just — punished guilty — could have done otherwise — 
self-determination. In this piece of reasoning there are four inter- 
mediate ideas, and five comparisons are made to discover the 
agreement with the extremes, and with one another. The agree- 
ment between the adjacent ideas in every rnovement, appears with 
a high degree of conviction ; and were each of the ideas illustrated 
at some length, according to the common mode of reasoning on 
moral topics, the whole would form an elegant deduction, and 
would communicate a very vivid impression. 

Let us suppose, further, the following political propo- 
sition were proposed to be proved ; and let us consider 
the nature of the reasoning requisite to establish it : 
" Industry is the capital source of national prosperity." 
The ideas, or terms, as the logicians express themselves, 
to be compared, are those of industry and national 
prosperity. I must also remark, that agreement of 
ideas in politics refers, not to reasonableness and fitness, 
as in morals, but to public utility, or national happi- 
ness, The meaning, then, of the proposition wall be, 
that industry makes a nation prosperous, by extending 

6 



122 EXAMPLES OF PROBABLE REASONING. 

its opulence and exalting its reputation, in supjDort of 
which I may argue in the following train : 

Industry increases the population of a country, by providing 
subsistence for additional inhabitants. An increase of inhabitants 
increases commerce and manufactures. Commerce and manufac- 
tures procure riches from foreign nations of less industry. Tliese 
riches prompt a spirit of enterprise still further to extend commerce 
and manufactures. Hence new nerves to domestic industry. The 
comforts, and many of the luxuries of life, are provided for all the 
members of the community. Ample security is found for the con- 
tinuance of these advantages by the national reputation they pro- 
cure, and the large resources of money and men they supply to 
maintain it. But national prosperity consists in these things which 
I have enumerated ; — a w^ealthy, sober, industrious, and numerous 
people, respectable at home, and formidable abroad. Each of the 
steps might have been illustrated at considerable length, and might 
have formed a very pleasant and satisfactory discussion. They 
may also be condensed into more narrow bounds, and may form 
the following series ready for the nearest comparison. National 
industry — increase of people — improvements in commerce and 
manufactures — national riches — national enterprise — people at 
home, numerous and happy, respectable and formidable abroad — 
national prosperity. This series presents five intermediate ideas ; 
and six comparisons are requisite to afford conviction of the agree- 
ment of the first idea with the last, or of the subject of the propo- 
sition with its predicate. 

In the specimens I have advanced from morals and 
politics, the evidence, you will observe, though highly 
satisfactory, is still no more than probable ; and ap- 
pears not with that commanding tone which compels 
assent. Skeptical men may find reason to suspend as- 
sent, and disputatious men may raise difiiculties, which 
we are obliged to admit are not destitute of foundation. 
Accordingly, against every step of the preceding politi- 
cal series, some cause of hesitation may be started. 

It may be urged, that industry is not always attended with an 
increase of people ; it may even sometimes produce tlie contrary 
effect ; it may induce the people to emigrate to other countries, 



VALUE OF PROBABLE KEASONINQ. 123 

where their labor will be better rewarded than at home. It may 
be urged again, that the most warlike and powerful nations are 
often the poorest and most hardy, while arts and industry only 
supply riches to tempt such adventurers to seize both the country 
and its wealth. It may be contended, that arts and industry ener- 
vate mankind, multiply wants and vices, and render people miser- 
able in the midst of every provision for happiness ; that they re- 
press all the great and splendid, and consequently many of the 
most pleasant exertions of the mind. It is the possibility of con- 
structions of this sort, in all probable investigations, which dimin- 
ishes their evidence, and renders the conviction they produce infe- 
rior to that of demonstration. 

But, however susceptible of conti-oversy these speci- 
mens of reasoning may be, they are much more satis- 
factory than many of the conjectural opinions on which 
men must every day act in some of the most important 
concerns of life. Many of the engagements we form, 
every new line of life on which we enter, involve nu- 
merous considerations to determine our conduct, which 
are scarcely supported by better evidence than specula- 
tion. The wisdom of the most prudent man is fre- 
quently not more meritorious than the sagacity w^hich 
leads him to conjecture with most probability, or which 
teaches him to proceed with recollection and attention 
to surrounding objects, so as to avail himself of events 
as they occur. 

I mention these ^particulars to evince, that we ha^e 
no good reason to be dissatisfied w4th our condition, 
though we should not receive, on many subjects of 
knowledge, other evidence for truth than that of proba- 
bility. It is sufficient to guide us to happiness, while 
uncertainty about futurity in particular is, perhaps, one 
of the most merciful dispensations with which the 
providence of heaven could have favored mankind. 
The highest happiness we can partake in this w^irld, is 
extremely circumscribed. One of the chief ingredi- 



124 ANALOGICAL REASONING. 

ents of onr enjoyments is hope ; and were our anticipa- 
tions and conjectures about futurity less equivocal, our 
hopes would be correspondently diminished. In our 
deepest distress, our ignorance of what is to come is so 
great as never to preclude hope. We sometimes expe- 
rience relief, contrary to every view of probability, and 
every expectation : and we have always the consolation 
of looking forward, and hoping for better days. 

In our reasonings of anticipation, we proceed chiefly 
by analogy. We suppose that the future will resemble 
the past. In the negotiations of business, and in fore- 
casting the probable consequences of any plan of con- 
duct, we must conclude, that similar causes will pro- 
duce similar effects ; that men v/ill act in time to come 
as they have done in time past ; and that the course of 
nature will proceed by the established rules which 
have directed it since the world began. We argue 
from the characters, the opinions, the interests, the pas- 
sions, the weaknesses, and the caprices of men ; and we 
endeavor to form systems of conduct for them, derived 
from the situations which they occupy. The trains of 
reasoning we adopt in such cases, are in a great meas- 
ure hypothetical ; and the probability of the evidence 
frequently is of the lowest kind. Conjectures often so 
counterbalance one another, as to leave the mind in a 
state of total suspense. 

OBSERVATIONS ON PEOBABLE REASONING. 
[From Dr. George Payne's Mental Science.] 

[According to Dr. Thomas Brown, reasoning, as ex- 
pressed in words, consists of a series of propositions, 
eacfi of w^hich embodies and expresses a feeling of the 
relation of comprehension. " Man is an intellectual 
being ; he should not, therefore, pursue the gratifica- 



ANALYSIS OF PEOBABLE KEASONING. 125 

tions of sense only." The preceding sentence contains 
two distinct propositions ; and the whole is an efrect of 
what is called reasoning. Each of these propositions 
expresses nothing more than a recognized relation — the 
relation of comprehension. The lirst one exhibits some- 
thing which forms a part of onr complex notion of man, 
viz., intellect ; the second, something which enters into 
our complex notion of an intellectual being, viz., eleva- 
tion above the pleasure of mere appetites. "In a single 
proposition," says Dr. Brown, " we take one step, or 
feel one relation ; in an enthymeme we take two steps, 
or feel two relations ; in a syllogism we take three steps, 
or feel three relations : whatever is affirmed in any 
stage of our reasonings, is a relation of some sort, — of 
wdiich, as felt by us, the proposition that affirms the re- 
lation is only a verbal statement." 

All reasoning, then, verbally expressed, consists of a 
series of propositions : but every series of propositions 
does not constitute reasoning. " God is infinitely wise," 
" Man is prone to err," " Heaven is the abode of hap- 
piness." Here is a series of propositions, each of them 
embodying a judgment, or the notion of a relation; 
but there is no ratiocination here. To constitute reason- 
ing, there must be a certain connection in the proposi- 
tions enunciated, by which the last is connected as ef- 
fectually as the second with the first. 

What, then, is the nature of this connection of the 
propositions in a process of reasoning? This will, per- 
haps, be bes1; ascertained by examining a particular 
instance, viz., " Man is possessed of intellect, will, free- 
dom, &c. ; he is, therefore, a capable subject of moral 
government." In this example, the term mcui is what 
is called the subject of the first proposition ; and his 
afih-med capability of moral government is denomina- 
ted its predicate. It will be observed, however, that 



126 ANALYSIS OF PROBABLE REASONING. 

this predicate becomes the subject of the second propo- 
sition, which, when fully expressed, stands as follows : 
A being possessed of intellect, Avill, &c., is a capable 
subject of moral government. We are accordingly led 
by this particular instance to the general doctrine that, 
to confer upon a series of propositions a claim to the 
character of reasoning, it is essential that the predicate 
of each of the propositions constitute the subject of the 
proposition which immediately follows it; in tliat case 
the predicate of the last will be as certainly connected 
w^ith the subject of the first proposition, as though they 
stood in juxtaposition. By lengthening the preceding 
series of propositions, the truth and importance of this 
statement will be rendered apparent. 

Man is possessed of intellect, will, freedom, &c. 

The possessor of intellect, &c., is a capable subject of 
moral government. 

A capable subject, &c., e%c., may expect that his con- 
duct will hereafter undergo the scrutiny of the Judge 
of all 

In the above series, it will be seen that the predicate 
of the first becomes the subject of the second j)roposi- 
tion, — and the predicate of the second, the subject of 
the third ; and further, that the subject 7nan of tiie first 
is connected with the predicate of the last: thus, Man 
may expect that his conduct will hereafter undergo, &c. 

The reason of this connection will be ajDparent, when 
it is remembered that each of the predicates declares 
w^hat is comprehended in the complex notion expressed 
by its subject. The possession of -intellect, will, &c., is 
involved in our complex notion of man ; capacity of 
moral government is involved in our complex notion of 
a being possessing intellect, &c.,&c. ; and the certainty 
of the scrutiny referred to is involved in our complex 
notion of a capable subject of moral government. Now, 



ANALYSIS OF PEOBABLE REASONING. 127 

if the second is involved in the first — the third in the 
second — and the fourth in the third — it is manifest that 
the fourth is as really involved in the first as in the 
third. And thus it is in every train of reasoning, how- 
ever long that train may be. An analysis takes place 
in our mind, of the complex notion denoted by the first, 
or original subject, in consequence of which we are 
enabled to predicate something of it. That which is 
thus predicated undergoes a similar process of analysis, 
the result of which is embodied in the subsequent prop- 
osition ; so that when we arrive at the conclusion, 
how distant soever it may be, the last predicate is as 
truly contained in the first as is its particular predicate, 
though it does not become visible to us till exhibited, 
as it were, in its elementary state, by the repetition of 
analysis after analysis.] 



LECTURE IX. 

DIFFERENT PROCESSES OF REASONING EXAMINATION OF THE 

VALIDITY OF A PROCESS OF REASONING DIFFERENT KINDS 

OF SOPHISTRY THE VARIOUS USE AND ORDER OF SEVERAL 

KINDS OF PROPOSITIONS AND OF ARGUMENTS THE EXERCISE 

OF A SOUND JUDGMENT. 

In the preceding lecture I explained the nature of 
reasoning, and the difierent degrees of evidence it con- 
veys to the mind, according as it is demonstrative or 
probable. I have shown that it consists in perceiving 
whether ideas agree or disagree ; and I have illustrated 
the meaning of this agreement in mathematics, morals, 
politics, and business. It only remains, that I explain 



128 REASONING DIRECT OR INDIRECT. 

the d'iffereiit methods^ in common use, of distributing or 
arranging ideas in different jptrocesses of reasoning. 

In this view, reasoning is said to be either direct or 
indirect. In direct reasoning, we prove a proposition 
in the manner I have explained, by finding interme- 
diate ideas that show the agreement of the terms of 
which it consists. In indirect reasoning, we do not 
trace the agreement of the terms of a proposition ; it 
takes place only when the predicate of a proposition 
admits an alternative, and when either the predicate or 
the alternative must be true, or must agree with the 
subject of the joroposition, because they exhaust every 
case that can exist. We j)rove that the alternative 
cannot be true, and therefore the predicate must be 
true. An example will make this matter perfectly 
clear. 

Euclid lays down this proposition — " That a straight line drawn 
at right angles from the extremity of a diameter, falls without the 
circle." No intermediate idea, it seems, occurred, by which he 
could deduce the proof directly from the nature of the circle, or of 
the perpendicular or the extremit}^ of the diameter. He proceeds, 
therefore, by indirect demonstration, and introduces an alternative. 
The perpendicular must fall either without the circle, or within it. 
IsTo third supposition can be made relative to the manner of its 
falling, for it cannot fall upon the circumference of the circle, ex- 
cept in one point. He proves that the alternative cannot be true, 
or that the perpendicular cannot fall within the circle. The predi- 
cate, then, must be true, that the perpendicular falls without the 
circle. 

Again — " The moon is either an opaque or a transparent body." 
It is not transparent, because, if it were, it would transmit the ra3's 
of the sun when it comes between the sun and the earth ; and no 
ecMpse of 'the sun could happen from the intervention of it between 
the sun and the earth ; but this conclusion is contrary to truth, 
for such eclipse does happen. The alternative, therefore, that the 
moon is a transparent body must be false, and consequently the 
predicate must be true, than the moon is an opaque body. The 
refutation of the alternative is always pursued tiU it terminates in 



DIRECT AND INDIKECT SEASONING OOMPAEED. 129 

some contradiction, falsehood, or absurdity ; and on this account 
indirect reasoning is sometimes called " reductio ad absurdum^'' by 
the logicians. 

It has often been disputed, whether indirect reasoning 
is less elegant and satisfactory than direct ; but I need 
not spend time in remarks on this controversy. Both 
convey truth with perfect evidence ; and when a rea- 
soner has got possession of an indirect proof, he will not, 
I believe, trouble himself much in searching for a direct 
one. It is, however, generally supposed, that mathe- 
maticians never employ the former but in cases of 
necessity, when they cannot have recourse to the latter. 
The great number of beautiful specimens of demonstra- 
tion of which their science is susceptible, may render 
them nice or delicate even about the elegance and 
manner of their reasonings; but on other subjects, and 
in other sciences, when the mind is glad to reach im- 
portant truth on any terms, it will be abundantly satis- 
fied with good indirect proof. It may, perhaps, be 
doubted whether the charge of inelegance is not the 
offspring of squeamislmess and caprice, rather than of 
just taste. An indirect train of ideas is often long, and 
is conjoined with as much clearness and propriety as 
any direct one. The step from the falsehood of the 
alternative to the truth of the predicate, is perfectly 
satisfactory, if not elegant ; and it may be added, that 
indirect reasoning imparts variety to the nature of the 
proof.^ 

[ * Dr. Watts thus describes some arguments of an indirect form : 
(1.) When some contradictory proposition is proved to be false, improba- 
ble, or impossible; or when, upon supposition of the falsehood, or denial 
of the original proposition, some absurdity is inferred. This is called a 
proof jper imposdhile, or a rechictio ad ctbsiirdum. (2.) When some other 
proposition is proved to be true, which is less probable ; and thence it 
follows that the original proposition is true, because it is more probable. 
(3.) Wben any other proposition is proved, upon which it was before 
agreed to yield the original question.] 

6«* 



130 A PKIORI AND A POSTERIORI REASONING. 

Reasoning, furtlier, is said to proceed either a priori., 
or a posteriori — a distinction wliicli relates entirely to 
cause and effect. In reasoning a priori^ we begin with 
the cause, and infer from it the reality or the species of 
the effect. In reasoning a pjosteriori., we reverse this 
process ; we begin with the effect, and reason back- 
ward from it, to the establishment of the existence and 
qualities of the cause. 

If, for example^ I maintain, that the soul of man is a thinking 
substance, and therefore tliat it is immaterial, because matter can- 
not think ; and hence again infer that it is immortal, because what 
is immaterial cannot die or be destroyed — I reason a 'priori ; I de- 
duce the effect from its cause, and prove the soul to be immortal 
from the nature of its constitution. If, again, I argue that the 
people who live fifteen degrees further east than we will have their 
day beginning and ending an hour sooner than ours; that naviga- 
tors, of course, who have sailed fifteen degrees eastward will have 
lost an hour of our day, and will have gained an hour from the day 
of the people of that longitude; that these navigators will expe- 
rience a similar loss and gain in point of time, for every fifteen de- 
grees eastward on the face of the globe ; and that, as they must 
pass through four and twenty times fifteen degrees in sailing round 
the globe, so, on returning home, they will calculate time a day 
sooner than their countrymen, because they have lost twenty -four 
hours of the time of their countrymen in their voyage : in this 
process I reason a 'priori^ because I deduce a curious fact, verified 
by experience, from the figure of the earth, round which the navi- 
gation is performed. 

In reasoning a posteriori.^ we argue from the effect to 
the cause, and conclude from the former the nature or 
existence of the latter. 

For example^ from the wisdom, power, and goodness discernible 
in all the works of nature, I infer that there must be some wise, 
benevolent, and omnipotent cause, from which these effects proceed. 
I cannot doubt of the effects, because I experience them ever}^ mo- 
ment of my existence; I can as little doubt that they must proceed 
from some cause, and that the cause must possess the qualities 
conspicuous in the effects. I observe, again, that the shadow of 



ARGUMENTS WITH KESPECT TO SUBJECT-MATTER. 131 

the earth projected on the face of the moon, in a lunar eclipse, is of 
a circular form ; and from this effect I justly infer that the figure of 
the earth is round, because this figure only could produce such a 
shadow. 

Keasonings a priori are mucli circumscribed, because 
causes are seldom so well known as their effects. From 
effects, chiefly, we ascend to the knowledge of causes ; 
and on this account, reasoning a jyosteriori is much 
more frequent. It is much employed in inquiries into 
nature ; it is the groundwork of the famous method of 
induction for investigating natural knowledge, recom- 
mended in the " Novum Organum" of Lord Bacon ; 
and it is of frequent use in politics and morals. 

The best way to obtain an acquaintance, both with the Author 
of nature, and with the secondary causes which produce the effects 
we daily behold, is to survey with patience the effects themselves, 
because we have no means of information concerning the causes, 
except in this channel. In like manner, to understand the duties a 
man owes to his country, or to his neighbor, we must scrutinize 
his constitution, what forms the happiness of such a being, both aa 
a member of society and a moral agent ; what are his mental facul- 
ties and his bodily powers, his attachments and antipathies, his 
gratifications and his wants. In aU these inquiries we begin from 
the effect, and ascend to the cause, or we reason a 'posteriori. 

[We will now leave our author for a while, and draw 
upon Dr. Whately : 

He distributes arguments with resjyect to their sub- 
ject-matter^ into two great classes^ mz. : First., such 
arguments as might have been employed — not as argu- 
ments, but — to account for the fact or principle main- 
tained, supposing its truth granted. Secondly., such as 
could not be so employed. The former class (the a 
priori) is manifestly argument from cause to effect, since 
to account for any thing signifies to assign the cause of 
it ; this is the popular sense. 

As far, then, as any cause, popularly speaking, has 



132 AEGUMENTS FROM AN EFFECT TO A CONDITION. 

a tendency to prodnce a certain effect, so far its exist- 
ence is an argument for that effect. If the cause be 
fully sufficient^ and no impediments intervene, the effect 
in question follows certainly ; and the nearer we ap- 
proach to this, the stronger the argument. This is the 
kind of argument which produces (when short of abso- 
lute certainty) that species of the probable which is 
usually called the " plausible." 

The second class of arguments (referred to above) are 
designated by the terms " sign" and " example." Tlie 
former is an argument from an effect to a condition / — 
a species of argument of which the analysis is as fol- 
lows : As far as any circumstance is what may be 
called a condition of tlie existence of a certain effect or 
phenomenon, so far it may be inferred from the exist- 
ence of that effect: if it be a condition ctbsolutely essen- 
tial^ the argument is, of course, demonstrative ; and the 
probability is the stronger in proportion as we approach 
to that case. -h 

As an instance, a man is suspected as the perpetrator 
of a murder, from the circumstance of his clothes being 
bloody ; the murder being considered as in a certain 
degree a probable condition of that appearance ; i. e., 
it is presumed that his clothes would not otherwise have 
been bloody. Again, from the appearance of ice, we 
infer, decidedly, the existence of a temperature not 
above the freezing-point, that temperature being an 
essential condition of the crystallization of water. 

Among the circumstances which are conditional to 
any effect, must evidently come the cause or causes ; 
and if there be only one possible cause, this being abso- 
lutely essential, may be demonstratively proved from 
the effect : if the same effect might result from other 
causes, then the argument is, at best, but probable. But 
it is to be observed, that there are also many circum- 



AEGrMENTS FROM AN EFFECT TO A COI^DrnON. 133 

sfcances which have no tendency to produce a certain 
eifect, though it cannot exist loitliout them, and from 
which effect, consequently, they may be inferred as 
conditions, thongh not causes : e. g., a man's being 
" alive one day," is a circumstance necessary, as a con- 
dition, to his " dying the next," but has no tendency to 
produce it ; his having been alive, therefore, on the for- 
mer day, may be proved from his subsequent death, but 
not mce versa. 

It is to be observed, therefore, that though it is very 
common for the cause to be proved from its eifect, it is 
never so proved, so far forth as it is a cause .^ but so far 
forth as it is a condition., or necessary circumstance. 

A cause, again, may be employed to prove an effect 
(this being th.Q first class of arguments), so far as it has 
a tendency to ]3roduce the effect, even though it be not 
at all necessary to it (i. e., when other causes may pro- 
duce the same effect) ; and in this case, though an 
effect may be inferred from the cause, the cause can- 
not be inferred from the effect : e, g., from a mortal 
wound you may infer death, but not vice versa. 

Lastly, when a cause is also a necessary or probable 
condition.^ i. e., when it is the only possible or only 
likely cause, then we may argue both ways : e. g., we 
may infer a general's success from his known skill, or 
his skill from his known success (in this, as in all cases, 
assuming what is the hetter Jcnown as a proof of what is 
less known, denied, or doubted) : these two arguments 
belonging, respectively, to the two classes originally laid 
down. 

The phrase " a priorV argument, is generally under- 
stood to extend to any argument drawn from an antece- 
dent or 2^ forerunner.^ whether a cause or not ; e. g., " the 
mercury sinks, therefore it will rain." Now this argu- 
ment being drawn from a circumstance which, thongh 



134 AMBIGUOUS WORDS. 

an antecedent, is not a cause, would fall not under the for- 
mer but under the latter of the classes laid down ; since 
when rain comes, no one would account for the phenom- 
enon by the falling of the mercury, which they would 
call a " sign''' of rain ; and yet most, perhaps, would class 
this among " a priori" arguments. In like manner, the 
expression, " a posteriori" arguments, would not in its 
ordinary use coincide precisely, though it would very 
nearly, with the second class of arguments. 

Many writers, in investigating the cause to which 
any fact or phenomenon is to be attributed, have as- 
signed that which is not a cause^ but only a proof that 
the fact is so ; and have thus been led into an endless 
train of errors and perplexities. 

The word why^ as an interrogative, is employed in 
three senses, viz., " By what proof?" (or reason). 
"From what cause?" "For what purpose?" This 
last is commonly called the " final cause :" e. g., " Why 
is this prisoner guilty of the crime ?" " Why does a 
stone fall to the earth ?" " Why did you go to Lon- 
don?" Much confusion has arisen from not distin- 
guishing these different inquiries. 

Ambiguity has arisen from the same words having 
come to be applied, in common, to diverse kinds of 
sequence ; e. g,, an effect is said to " follow" from a 
cause, and a conclusion to " follow" from the premises ; 
the words " cause" and " reason" are each ajDplied indif- 
ferently, both to a cause properly so called, and to the 
premise of an argument, though " reason," in strictness 
of speaking, should be confined to the latter. " There- 
fore," '• hence," " consequently," &c., and also " since," 
" because," and " why," have likewise a corresponding 
ambiguity. 

As before remarked, " reason" is employed to signify 
the premise, or premises of an argument: especially 



AEGUINIENT FEOM PROGRESSIVE APPKOACH. 135 

the minor premise ; and it is from " reason" in tins 
sense that the word " reasoning" is derived. It is also 
very frequently used to signify a cause / as when we 
say, in popular language, that the "reason of an eclipse 
of the sun is, that the moon is interposed between it 
and the earth." This should be strictly called the 
cause. On the other hand, " because" (i. e., " by 
cause") is used to introduce either the physical cause 
or the logical proof; and "therefore," "hence," "since," 
" follow," " consequence," and many other kindred 
words, have a corresponding ambiguity : e. g., " the 
ground is wet, hecause it has rained ;" or, " it has 
rained, and hence the ground is wet :" this is the as- 
signment of the cause. Again, " it has rained hecause 
the ground is wet ;" " the ground is wet, and therefore 
it has rained ;" this is assigning the \o^\^2X proof : the 
wetness of the ground is the cause, not of the rain hav- 
ing fallen, but oi our knowing that it has fallen. And 
this probably it is that has led to the ambiguous use in 
all languages of almost all the words relating to these 
two points. 

Next may be considered the argicment from Pro- 
gressive AiDproacli. In this species, the force of the 
series of arguments results from the order in which, 
they are considered, and from their jyr'ogressive tendency 
to establish a certain conclusion. 

For example : One part of the law of nature, called 
the vis inei'tim^ is established by the argument alluded 
to ; viz., that a body set in motion will eternally con- 
tinue in motion, with uniform velocity, in a right line, 
so far as it is not acted upon by any causes which retard 
or stop, accelerate or divert its course. Now, as in 
every case which can come under our observation, some 
such causes do intervene, the assumed supposition is 
practically impossible, and we have no opportunity of 



136 AEGU3IENT CALLED "EXAMPLE." 

Yerifying tlie law bj direct experiment ; but we may 
gradually a2JpToaGli indefinitely near to the case sup- 
posed, and on the result of such experiments our con- 
clusion is founded. We find that where a body is pro- 
jected along a rough surface, its motion is speedily re- 
tarded and soon stopped ; if along a smoother surface, 
it continues longer in motion ; if upon ice, longer still ; 
and the like with regard to wheels, &c., in proportion 
as we gradually lessen the friction of the machinery: 
and if we remove the resistance of the air, by setting a 
wheel or a pendulum in motion under an exhausted re- 
ceiver, the motion is still longer continued. Finding, 
then, that the eifect of the original impulse is more 
and more protracted, in proportion as we more and 
more remove the impediments to motion from friction 
and the resistance of the air, we reasonably conclude, 
that if this could be comiDletely done (which is out of 
our power), the motion would never cease, since what 
appear to be the only causes of its cessation would be 
absent. 

Dr. Whately adds a similar progressive argument for 
the being and attributes of God, and for religious ^(Aqy- 
2ii\o\i.— Rhetoric^ part i. chap. ii. § 6. 

In the next place, under the head of Example,'" Dr. 

[* The Example is an argument wliicb proves somethin.o: to be true in a 
particular case from anotlier particular case. Thus, " Harve}^ might expect 
to be persecuted for his discovery of the circulation of the blood, because 
Galileo Avas for Ms discovery." But the connection between two distinct 
facts can only depend upon their coming under some common law, and 
therefore in the Example the proof is not of one particular judgment by 
another, but of a particular by means of a universal, for which another par- 
ticular is the sign. Thus : 

Galileo was persecuted — 

Galileo was a discoverer in science ; 

Therefore all discoverers are likely to be persecuted. 

Harvey is a discoverer, 

Therefore he too will be persecuted. 
This argument is called " rhetorical induction ;" it differs from induction 



INDUCTION. 137 

"Whately comprehends the arguments designated by the 
various names oi induction^ experience^ analogy ^ parity 
of reasoning^ &c., all of which are essentially the same 
as to fundamental principles : for, in all the arguments 
designated by these names, it v/ill be found, that we 
consider one or more known individual objects or in- 
stances of a certain class as a fair samjjle^ in respect 
of some point or other of that class ; and, consequently, 
draw an inference from them respecting either the Avhole 
class, or other less known individuals of it. 

We do not, strictly speaking, reason hy induction, 
but reason y^^(?m induction, i. Q.^from our observations 
on one, or on several individuals, we draw a conclusion 
respecting the class they come under ; or, in like man- 
ner, from several species, to the genus which compre- 
hends them : e. g., " The earth moves round the sun in 
an elliptical orbit ; so does Mercury, and Yenus, and 
Mars, &c. ; therefore a planet (the common term com- 
prehending these singulars) moves round," &c. " Philip 
was reckless of human life ; so was Alexander ; so Avas 
Caesar, &c. ; therefore this is the general character of a 
conqueror. "^^ 

In such arguments it is assumed, that what helongs to 
the individual^ or individuals we have examined, he- 
longs (certainly or probabl}^, as the case may be), to the 
whole class under which they come. 

With respect to the argument from experience / 

proper in bringing in only one example instead of many, and in going on 
to prove another particular case, instead of stopping at the general law. 
This difference disappears, if, with Diogenes, Laertius, and Cicero, we de- 
scribe induction as an argument from particulars to like particulars. 

The plan in this kind of argument is obvious ; but the nearer the predi- 
cate of the second premise approaclies to distribution (the introduction of 
the whole of their subject), the less probable is an error. If it could be 
shown that " Galileo was a fiiir sample of «.?? discoverers," the mode Avould 
be formally correct. But in its weaker form it is perpetually employed. — 
Thoynson.l 



138 ARGUMENT FROM EXPERIENCE AND ANALOGY. 

strictly speaking, we know hj experience only the ^;<2.?^, 
and what has occnrrecl under our own observation ; 
thus, we know by exjperience that the tides have daily 
ebbed and flowed during such a time, and from the tes- 
timony of others, as to their own experience, that the 
tides have formerly done so ; and from this experience 
we conclude, hy induction, that the same phenomenon 
will continue. 

The word analogy^ again, is generally employed in 
the case of arguments in which the instance adduced 
is somewhat more remote from that to which it is ap- 
plied ; e.,g., a physician would be said to know by ex- 
jjcrience the noxious effects of a certain drug on the 
human constitution, if he had frequently seen men 
poisoned by it ; but if he thence conjectured that it 
would be noxious to some other species of animal, he 
would be said to reason from analogy^ the only differ- 
ence being, that the resemblance is less between a 
man and a brute than between one man and another ; 
and accordingly, it is found that many brutes are not 
acted upon by some drugs which are pernicious to 
man. 

But, more strictly speaking, analogy ought to he dis- 
tinguished from direct resemblance^ with vMch it is 
often confounded. Analogy, being a " resemblance of 
ratios," that should strictly be called an argument from 
analogy in wdiich the two things (viz., the one from 
which, and the one to which we argue) are not necessa- 
rily themselves alike, but stand in similar relations to 
some other things ; or, in other words, that the common 
genus which they both fall under, consists in a relation. 
Thus an Qgg and a seed are not in themselves alike, but 
bear a like relation to the parent bird and to her future 
nestling on the one hand, and to the old and young 
plant on the other, respectively ; this relation being the 



CAUTIONS CONCERNING ANALOGY. 139 

genus which both fall under : and many arguments 
might be di-awn from this analogy. 

In this kind of argument one error^ which is very 
common, and w^iich is to be sedulously avoided, is that 
of concluding the things in question to he alike hecause 
they are analogous : to resemble each other in them- 
selves, because there is a resemblance in the relation 
they bear to certain other things ; which is manifestly 
a groundless inference. Many persons are guilty of 
this mistake who are, or ought to be, familiar w4th the 
Scripture jaarables ; in which the words " compare" and 
"liken" are often introduced, where it is evident that 
there could have been no thought of any direct resem- 
blance. A child of ten years old would hardly be 
guilty of such a blunder as to suppose that members of 
the church are literally " like" plants of corn — sheep — 
iish caught in a net, — and fruit-trees. 

Another caution is ajJpUcable to the whole class of 
arguments from examjple ; viz., not to consider the re- 
semblance or analogy to extend further (i. e., to more 
particulars) than it does. In the parable of the unjust 
steward, an argument is drawn from analogy to recom- 
mend prudence and foresight to Christians in spiritual 
concerns, but it w^^uld be absurd to conclude that fraud 
was recommended to our imitation ; and yet mistakes 
very similar to such a perversion of that argument are 
by no means rare. 

Against both these mistakes our Lord's parables are 
guarded in tv\'o ways. 1st. He selects, in several of 
them, images the most remote possible from the thing 
to be illustrated in almost every point except the one 
that is essential, as in the parable referred to just above. 
2dl3\ Pie employs a great variety of images in illustra- 
ting each single point ; e. g., a Held of corn — a net 
cast into the sea — a grain of mustard-seed — a lump of 



140 PARABLES OF CHKIST. 

leaven, &c. For, as the thing to be illustrated cannot 
have a direct resemblance, or a complete analogy, in all 
these different things, we are thus guarded against tak- 
ing for granted that this is the case with any one of 
them. 

It may be added that the variety, and also the ex- 
treme coinmonness of the images introduced, serve as a 
help to the memory by creating a multitude oi associa- 
tions. Our Lord has inscribed his lessons on almost 
every object around us. 

And, moreover, men are thus guarded against the 
mistake they are so prone to, and which, even as it is, 
they are continually falling into, of laying aside their 
common sense altogether in judging of any matter con- 
nected with religion ; as if the rules of reasoning which 
they employ in temporal matters, were quite unfit to be 
employed in spiritual. 

It may be added, that illustrations drawn from things 
considerably remote from what is to be illustrated will 
often have the effect of an " a fortiori" argument, as in 
some of the parables just alluded to, and in that where 
Jesus says, " If ye then, being evil, know how to give 
good gifts to your children, how imicli more^'' &c. 

So, also, in the Apostle Paul's illustration from the 
Isthmian Games, " Kow, they do it to obtain a corrup- 
tible crown ; but we, an incorruptible," (fee. 

Sound judgment and vigilant caution are nowhere 
more called for than in observing what differences (per- 
haps seemingly small) do, and what do not, nullify the 
analogy between two cases. And the same may be 
said in regard to the ajDplicability of precedents or ac- 
knowledged decisions of any kind, such as Scripture 
precepts, &c., all of which, indeed, are in their essence 
of the nature of example : since every recorded decla- 
ration or injunction may be regarded — in connection 



SMALL DIFFERENCES NULLIFY ANALOGY. 141 

with the persons to whom, and the occasion on which 
it was delivered — as a Tinown case j from Avhich, conse- 
quently, we may reason to any Q)\h<dT 'parallel case, and 
the question which w^e must be careful in deciding will 
be to whom, and to what it is a^jpliGahle. For, a seem- 
ingly small circumstance will often destroy the analo- 
gy, so as to make a precedent, precept, &c., inapplica- 
ble : and often, on the other hand, some difference, in 
itself important, may be pointed out between two cases, 
which shall not at all weaken the analogy in respect of 
the argument in hand. And thus there is danger both 
of being misled by specious arguments of this descrip- 
tion, which have no real force, and also of being stag- 
gered by plausible objections against such examples or 
appeals to authority, &c., as are perfectly valid. Hence 
Aristotle observes, that an oj^ponent, if he cannot show 
that the majority of instances is on his side, or that 
those adduced by his adversary are inapplicable, con- 
tends that they, at any rate^ differ in something from 
the case in question. 

Many are misled, in each way, by not estimating 
aright the degree and the Mnd of difference between 
the two cases. For example, the Apostle Paul recom- 
mends to the Corinthians celibacy as preferable to mar- 
riage : hence some religionists have inferred that this 
holds good in respect of all Christians. Now in many 
most important points Christians of the present day are 
in the same condition as the Corinthians, but they were 
liable to plunder, exile, and many kinds of bitter perse- 
cutions from their fellow-citizens ; and it appears that 
this was the very ground on which celibacy was recom- 
mended to them, as exempting them from many afHic- 
tions and temptations which in such troublous times a 
family would entail. Now it is not, be it observed, on 
the intrinsio imjportance of this difference between 



142 ANALYTIC AND SYNTHETIC REASONING. 

them and iis that the question turns ; but on its impor- 
tance in reference to the advice given. For other il- 
lustrations consult AYhately's Khet., part i. chap. ii. § 7. 

The phrase " parity of reasoning" is commonly em- 
ployed to denote analogical reasoning.] 

[We now return to our author.] 

The last distinction of reasoning divides it into 
analytiG and synthetic^ and refers chiefly to mathemat- 
ical reasonings. Analysis forms an elegant method of 
investigating the legitimacy of demonstrations. Syn- 
thesis puts together the different steps after investiga- 
tion, so as to make out a proof, and is the same thing 
with direct reasoning. 

The ancients carried on analysis by means of mathematical 
figures ; the great instrument of it in modern times is algebra. 
Many examples of the ancient analysis are to be found in Apollo- 
nius Pergseus, De Sectione Rationis, and in the problems published 
by the late Dr. Steuart, of Edinburgh, Every treatise of algebra, 
but particularly that of Sir Isaac Newton, will furnish specimens 
of the modern analysis by letters or symbols. All the demonstra- 
tions of the Elements of Euclid exhibit examples of nyntliesis ; 
and I need not produce any of them. I shall, therefore, oifer only 
one example of analysis. The purpose of it is to try the legitimacy 
of an investigation, or to discover whether the intermediate ideas, 
by which a mathematician suspects a demonstration may be ac- 
complished, are sufficient for that purpose. He begins with sup- 
posing that the ideas are good media for demonstrating the propo- 
sition in question, and constructs his figure on that hypothesis. 
He supposes, further, the thing done that a problem requires, or 
the truth established which a theorem proposes to prove. He sets 
out trom the proposition, and reasons backward to the beginning 
of it ; and if he encounter no contradiction, or terminate in no 
absurdit}-, he concludes the media to be pertinent and legitimate; 
if he land in an absurdity or contradiction, he infers that the 
media are improper, and that the synthetical demonstration Avill be 
inconclusive.* 

[* See Dugald Stewart's Works, vol. ii. chap. ix. § 3, for a full descrip- 
tiou of the import of the words analysis and synthesis.'] 



VALIDITY OF A PKOCESS OF REASONING. 143 

If, for example, it were required to analyze the first proposition 
of the first book of the Elements of Euclid, which proposes to de- 
scribe an equilateral triangle on a given straight hne. The mathe- 
matician would describe a triangle on the given line, and would 
suppose it equilateral. He would reason thus : If the triangle be 
equilateral, then making one end of the base a centre, and descri- 
bing a circle with the length of it as a radius, the circle will pass 
through the other extremities of the base, and of one of the sides ; 
so that the base and one of the sides must become radii of the same 
circle. If another circle be described from the other end of the 
base, with the same base taken as a radius, this circle will pass 
through the other extremities of the base and of the other side. 
The two circles, therefore, are equal, because their radii are so. 
This step finishes the analysis, and proves the media to be legiti- 
mate, because the reasoning backward has reached its principle, 
the equahty of the two circles, from which the synthesis begins, or 
from which the truth of the proposition, that the triangle is equi- 
lateral, is demonstrated. 

Logicians mention some other distinctions of reason- 
ing, which I shall shortly explain, because thej some- 
times occm' in conversation, and often in books. When 
we argue from principles, or opinions, admitted by the 
person with whom we reason, whether they be tiaie or 
not in themselves, we are said to employ an argumen- 
turn ad hoininem. When we urge in our defence some 
eminent authority, which an antagonist is ashamed to 
oppose, we are said to employ an argumentum ad vers- 
cundiam. When we perplex or puzzle an adversary, 
we ofler what is called argiimentum ad ignorantiam. 



EXAMINATION OF THE VALIDITY OF A PEOCESS OF 
EEASONING. 

[From Dr. Abercrombie's " Intellectual Powers."] 

[In examining the validity of a process of reasoning, 
the mental operation which we ought to perform may 
be guided by the following considerations ; 



14:4: VALIDITY OF A PROCESS OF REASONING. 

1. What statements does the author propose as mat- 
ters of fact ; are these authentic; are they really bear- 
ing upon, or connected with, the subject; do they com- 
prise a Ml and fair view of all the facts which ought 
to be brought forward in reference to the inquiry; have 
we reason to suspect that any of them have been dis- 
guised or modified, — that important facts have been 
omitted or kept out of view, — that the author has not 
had suflacient opportunities of acquiring the facts which 
he ought to have been possessed of, — or that he has 
been collecting facts on one side of a question, or in 
support of a j)articular opinion ? 

2. What 2y''oj)Ositions are assumed^ either as first or 
intuitive truths, or as deductions arising out of former 
processes of investigation ; and are we satisfied that 
these are all legitimate and correct? In particular, 
does he make any statement in regard to two or more 
events being connected as cause and effect / and is this 
connection assumed on sufiicient grounds ; does he as- 
sume any general irrinciiDle as aj)iMcdble to a certaAn 
class of facts ; is this principle in itself a fact, and does 
it really apply to all the cases wdiich he means to in- 
clude under it ; have we any reason to believe that it has 
been deduced from an insufficient number of facts, — or 
is it a mere fictitious hypothesis, founded upon a prin- 
ciple which cannot be proved to have a real existence ? 

3. Do these assumed princij)les and facts really he- 
long to the same siibject — or, in other w^ords, do the 
facts belong to that class to which the principles apply? 

4. Are the leading terms which he emjfloys fully and 
distinctly defined as to their meaning ; does he employ 
them in their common and recognized acceptation ; and 
does he uniformly use them in the same sense,' or 
does he seem to attach dififerent meanings to the same 
term in different parts of the argument ? 



VALIDITY OF A PE0CES3 OF EEASONING. 145 

5. What are the new conclusions which he deduces 
from the whole view of the subject ^ are these correct 
and valid ; and /fc* they really follow from the jpremises 
laid down in the previous parts of his argument ? For, 
on this head, it is always to be kept in mind, that a con- 
clusion may be true, while it does not follow from the 
argument that has been brought to prove it : in such a 
case the argument is false. 

Much of the confusion, fallacy, and sophistry of rea- 
soning arises from these points not being sufficiently 
attended to, and distinctly and rigidly investigated. 
An argument may appear fair and consecutive, but 
when we rigidly examine it we may find that the rea- 
soner has, in his premises, contrived to introduce some 
statement which is not true in point of fact, or some 
bold general position which is not correct, or not 
proved ; or that he has left out some fact, or some prin- 
ci]3le, which ought to have been brought forward in a 
prominent manner, as closely connected with the in- 
quiry. Hence the necessity for keeping constantly in 
view the various sources of fallacy to which every process 
of reasoning is liable, and for examining the elements 
rigidly and separately before we admit the conclusion. 

A process of reasoning is to he distinguished from a 
process of investigation ; and both may be illustrated 
in the following manner : 

All reasoning must he founded onfacts^ and the as- 
certained relations of these facts to each other j viz., 
those of resemblance, cause, efiect, &c. The statement 
of an ascertained relation of tioo facts to each other is 
called a proposition I such as, — -that A is equal to B; 
that C has a close resemblance to D ; that E is the 
cause of F, &c. These statements, propositions, or as- 
certained relations, are discovered by intuition or by 
processes of investigation. 

7 



146 VALIDITY OF A PROCESS OF REASONING. 

In a ])TOGess of reasoning^ again, we take a certain 
nmriber of such jprojpositioiis or ascertoAned relations^ 
and deduce from them certain other tndhs or relations^ 
arising out of the mutual connection of some of these 
propositions to each other. Thus, if I state as projDosi- 
tions, ascertained by processes of investigation, that A 
is equal to B, and that B is equal to C, I immediately 
decide by a single step of reasoning that A is equal to 
C in consequence of the mutual relation which both A 
and have to B. 

Such a process may he rendered more compliccUed in 
two ways : — 1. By tJie oiumher of such ascertained re- 
lations^ which we require to hear in mind and compare 
with each other before we arrive at the conclusion. 
Thus the relation that A is equal to E might rest on 
such a series of relations as the following : A is equal 
to B ; B is the double of C ; C is the half of D ; D is 
equal to E ; therefore A is equal to E. 

2. By the propositions which are the conclusiojis of 
one or more steps in a process hecoming the premises in 
a subsequent step. Thus, — I may take as one process, 
A is equal to B, and B is equal to C ; therefore A is 
equal to C ; — and, as a distinct process, C is equal to D 
and D is equal to E ; therefore is equal to E. The 
conclusions from these two processes I then take as the 
jpreniises in a third process, thus : It has been proved 
that A is equal to C, and that C is equal to E ; there- 
fore A is equal to E. 

In examining the validity of such processes, there 
are two circumstances or ohjects of ifiquiry which, we 
ought to keep constantly in view : 

1. JIave we confidence in the accuracy of the alleged 
facts and ascertaiiied relations which form the premi- 
ses f Can we rely on the process of investigation by 
which it is said to have been ascertained that A is 
equal to B, and that B is equal to C, &c. ? 



YALIDITY OF A PROCESS OF REASONING. 147 

2. Are the various propositions in the series so rela- 
ted as to hring out a ?iew truth or a new relation? 
For it is to be kept in mind, that a series of proposi- 
tions may all be true and yet lead to nothing : such 
propositions, for example, as that A is equal to B, C is 
equal to D, E is equal to F. There is here no mutual 
relation, and no new truth arises out of the series. But 
when I say A is equal to B, and B is equal to C, a new 
truth is immediately disclosed in consequence of the 
relation which both A and C have to B ; namely, that 
A is equal to C. 

Inventive genius^ in regard to processes of reasoning^ 
consists in finding ont relations or propositions which 
are thus capable of disclosing new truths or new rela- 
tions ; and in placing them in that order which is cal- 
culated to show how those new relations arise out of 
them. This is the exercise of a reflecting mind ; and 
there may be much acquired knowledge, that is, many 
facts accumulated by memory alone, without any de- 
gree of this exercise or habit of reflection. But both 
are required for forming a well-cultivated mind : the 
memory must be stored with information, that is, ascer- 
tained facts and ascertained relations ; and the power 
of reflection must be habituated to discover new truths 
or new relations by a comparison of these facts and as- 
certained relations with each other. For the discovery 
of new truths may consist either of new facts or of new 
relations among facts previously known. Thus, it might 
happen that we had long been familiar with two facts, 
without being aware that they had any particular con- 
nection. If we were then to ascertain that the one was 
the cause of the other, it would be a real and important 
discovery of a new truth, though it would consist only 
of a new relation between facts which had long been 
known to us.] 

[We return now to Professor Barron's Lecture.] 



14:8 IGNORATIO ELENCHI. 



VAKIOUS KINDS OF SOPHISTRY, OR FALSE REASO^^XG. 

Logicians liave divided sophistry also into different 
kinds; the most remarkable of which it will be proper 
to specify, because they are very common. The j^r^-^ is 
called Ignoratio Elenchi^ and consists m inistakiiig or 
misrepresenting the state of the question under discus- 
sion. This species occurs in most controversies, but 
particularly in political ones, which now chiefly engage 
men of learning and ability. Religious and philosophi- 
cal controversies have, fortunately for the peace of so- 
ciety, almost totally disappeared. The moment a writer 
engages in controversy, in spite of all the attention he 
can maintain, partialities lay hold of his mind ; his pas- 
sions warp and mislead his understanding. He reads 
the performances of his antagonist under the influence 
of dispositions which induce him to mistake their mean- 
ing. He discovers malevolent or insidious designs, 
which are perceptible by nobody but himself; and he 
imputes principles and views to his opponent which the 
latter never entertained or disavows. He introduces 
principles and views of his own, and he reasons and 
speculates about them as if they were admitted by the 
opposite party.* 

[* Dr. Watts thus states and illustrates the Ignoratio ElencM : — Tt occurs 
when something else is proved which has neither any nece.<sary connection or 
consistency ivith the thing inquired., and consequently gives no determination 
to the inquiry., though it may seem at first sight to determine the question ; as 
it" any should conclude that St. Paul was not a native Jew, by proving that 
he was born a Roman : or if they should pretend to determine that lie was 
neither Eoman nor Jew, by proving that he was born in Tarsus in Gilicia. 
These sophisms are refuted by showing that all these three may be true, 
for he was born of Jewish parents in the city of Tarsus, and by some pecu- 
liar privilege granted to his parents or his native city, he was born a deni- 
zen of Eonie. Thus not one of these three characters of the apostle is in- 
consistent with the others, and therefore the proving of one of ihem to be 
true does not refute the others. 

Disputers, when they grow warm, are apt to run into this fallacy. They 



PETITIO PRINCIPir. 14-9 

2. Another species of sophistry is called Petitio Prin- 
cijpii^ and consists in assuming as true the ]?Toposition 
under dehate. This species is not very frequent in busi- 
ness, because few men are so void of discernment, or so 
destitute of delicacy and regard to truth, as confidently 
to maintain what they have not attempted to prove. It 
is not, however, unfrequent in philosophical and politi- 
cal investigations, in which, either on account of the in- 
tricacy or uncertainty of the subjects, disputants arro- 
gate more liberty of obtruding their opinions upon their 
antagonists, or presume more readily that a bold asser- 
tion may be admitted for a proof 

The Peripatetics pretended to prove that the centre of the earth 
is the centre of the universe, by the following manifest pe^?!t2o jprin- 
ciiM. "All bodies must move towards the centre of the universe, 
but we find from experience that all bodies move towards the cen- 
tre of the earth ; therefore the centre of the earth is the centre of 
the universe." This argument proves nothing ; for although we 
allow that all bodies with which we are acquainted, move towards 
the centre of the earth, yet it does not follow that all bodies in the 
■universe move towards the centre of the earth. The truth is, that 
a body near the surface of the earth, moves towards it only by the 
difference of attraction it exerts above tlie other great bodies in na- 
ture ; that all the bodies in the solar system are attracted towards a 
point near the surface of the sun ; and that all the bodies of our so- 
lar system, and perhaps of all the systems of the universe, are at- 



dress up the ophiion of their adversary as they please, and ascribe senti- 
ments to him wiiich he does not acknowledge ; and when they have, with 
a great deal of pomp, attacked and confounded these images of straw of 
their own making, they triumph over their adversary as though they had 
utterly confuted his opinion. 

It is a fallacy of tlie same hind which a disputant is guilty of, when he 
finds that he cannot fairly prove the question flr^ft proposed : he then with 
subtlety turns the discourse aside to some other kindred point tuhicJi he can 
prove, and exults in that new argument wherein his opponent never contra- 
dicted, Jam. 

The way to prevent this fallacy, is by keeping the eye fixed on tlie pre- 
cise point of dispute, and neither wandering from it our-selves, nor suffering 
our antagonist to wander from it, or substitute any thing else in its room.] 



160 AEaUMENT FKOM ONE PARTICULAR TO ANOTHER. 

tracted towards some other point, surely not the centre of the 
earth, which is the centre of the whole * 

3. Sopliistiy, again, freqnentlv appears in arguing 
from, one jyctrticular to another^ or in inferring general 
conclusions from jparticular cases. The logicians call 
it a " dicto secundum quid, ad dictum simpliciter." 

The argument of the Epicureans of old, to prove the gods of hu- 
man shape, affords a pertinent example of this sort of sophistry. 
They maintained that the human was the most beautiful form of all 
those with which men were acquainted, or of which they had any 
conception, but the most beautiful form is always supposed to be- 
long to the gods, the best of beings in the universe ; it was, there- 
fore, reasonable to conclude, that they were endued with the hu- 
man form. ISTo connection subsists between the nature of man 
and. that of the gods, to induce us to believe the latter must pos- 
sess the shape of the former; and we cannot infer, because the 
figure of man is the most beautiful we are acquainted with, that 
therefore the form of the gods, admitting them to have some form, 
cannot be more beautiful than the human. The argument, that the 
form of a pine-apple, being the most beautiful, perhaps, of vegetable 
forms, is also the form of the gods, would be equally conclusive. 
It would be an inference from one particular to another, between 
which there is no relation ; or which have nothing in common, 
whence such an inference can be deduced. 

Should T, again, conclude, from the foolish or iniquitous behavior 
of some individuals, of a numerous order of men, that all the order 
are fools or rogues ; or, from the unwholesomeness or bad taste of 
some sort of animal and vegetable food, that all sorts are unwhole- 



[* Dr. Watts defines this sophism as a supposition of wTiat is not granted ; 
that is, tolien any proposition is sought to he proved hy the same proposition in 
other words, or hy something that is equally tmcertain and disputed : as if any 
one undertake to prove that the hnman soul is extended through all the 
parts of the bod}^, because it resides in every member, which is hut the 
same thing in other words. Or, if a Papist should pretend to prove that 
his religion is the only catholic religion, and is derived from Christ and liis 
apostles, because it agrees with the doctrine of all the fathers of the Church, 
all the holy martyrs, and all the Christian world throughout all ages: 
whereas tills is the great point in contest, whether their religion does agree 
with that of all the ancients and the primitive Christians, or no.] 



FALSE HYPOTHESES. 151 

some or "anpleasant ; or, because many bad kings and magistrates 
have been in the world, that all kings and magistrates are bad 
men ; I argue from premises insufficient to support my inference, 
because I extend the latter much farther than the former, and sup- 
pose there are no exceptions, where there may be thousands. This 
illegitimate and illiberal logic frequently appears in the intercourse 
of society, when all the connections, the family, the friends, the 
order of an impudent or a criminal person, are branded with the 
improprieties and the errors of which he only has been guilty; 
while they entertain, perhaps, a more lively disapprobation of his 
conduct than those who load them with reproach. It is, indeed, 
difficult to decide whether such a spirit is more characteristic of 
cruelty, or want of candor. It is cruel, for it displays a strong dis- 
position to criminate the innocent, and to pour into a dehcate and 
honorable mind that pungent vexation which results from the loss 
of reputation, under a consciousness of having done nothing to de- 
serve suck a misfortune. It is void of candor, because no inter- 
course has subsisted between the culprit and the party accused, 
which can authorize any inference of blame from the one to the 
other ; and it is not a little uncandid to deduce an inference with- 
out, or contrary, to premises. 

4. Many errors and much false reasoning result 
from forming hypotheses^ to account for the phenomena 
of nature, or the actions of men, without endeavoring 
to investigate the true causes and motives from the 
effects. This species of sophistry the logicians call 
Gausam assignare gum causa non est. Philosophers 
and speculative politicians have been most prone to in- 
dulge in this kind of ratiocination, and many curious 
examples of it are to be found in physical books, and 
in real life. 

Before the illustrious reformation of philosophy introduced by 
Lord Bacon, and prosecuted since his time by modern philosophers, 
particularly by Sir Isaac ISTewton, the whole science of nature was 
occupied about hypotheses. A philosopher never looked out to 
obtain knowledge of the effects and operations actually existing, till 
he had formed in his closet some theory concerning them, and then 
he proceeded to twist and to violate every appearance, till it should 



152 FALSE HYPOTHESES. 

accord with the speculation he had thought proper to adopt. One 
of the most prohfic of these theories was the abhorrence which 
philosophers supposed nature entertained against a vacuum. 
Prompted by the excessive obstinacy of this disposition, she made 
the most strenuous efforts to replenish every vacuity which the 
ordinary operations of causes, or the artifices of men, might attempt 
to impose upon her. Hence a bottle, out of which the air had been 
extracted, was broken to pieces, not by the weight of the external 
air, its true cause, but by the abhorrence nature entertained of a 
vacuum. Water ascended in a pump, not from the pressure of the 
atmosphere, but from the same abhorrence of a vacuum. 

All the heavenly bodies, says Aristotle, in his Physics, must move 
in circles, because a circle is the most perfect of all figures, and be- 
cause bodies moving in such figures meet with least resistance. We 
would have been much obliged to him, had he told us how he knew 
that the circle is the most perfect of all figures, and that bodies 
moving in circles meet with least resistance ; but both these reasons 
are mere suppositions, contrary to truth, as well as the opinion that 
the heavenly bodies move in circles, which he might have found to 
be erroneous by a Kttle observation. The same philosopher ofi'ers 
the following singular ratiocination, to support the hypothesis he 
had adopted concerning the eternity and perfection of the world : 
"The world is a perfect production, because it is composed of 
bodies ; and bodies are perfect magnitudes, because they consist of 
three dimensions, length, breadth, and thickness, and cannot admit 
of more. Lines are not perfect magnitudes, because they have 
length only, which may easily be made to move into a surface. 
Surfaces are not perfect magnitudes, because they have only length 
and breadth, which may easily be made to move into a solid." 

All this reasoning is mere conjecture, and relates to the qualities 
only of magnitudes, not in the least to their merits. The occult 
qualities of the same author, and his followers, are not more satis- 
factory sources of natural knowledge. The pulse beats ; the load- 
stone points to the pole ; tartar is emetic ; poppy produces sleep — 
because there is a beating quality in the pulse, an attractive quality 
in the loadstone, an emetic quality in tartar, and a soporific quality 
in poppy. Such philosophizing resembles the play of children, or 
the ridicule of empyrics, rather than the serious investigations of 
grave inquirers. It furnishes a humiliating picture of the progress of 
natural philosophy among the ancients, when such reasoning could 
be committed to writing, or could find any readers and admirers. 



FALSE HYPOTHESES. 153 

Some apology, however, may be offered for the an- 
cients, because they had not a Bacon to point out the 
genuine sources of natural knowledge, and to guide 
their steps in the investigation of it ; but w^hat excuse 
shall we offer for Descartes, who, after the days of 
Bacon — after considerable progress had been made by 
Kepler and Copernicus in discovering the true theory 
of the solar system — pretended to impose on the world 
a wdiimsical hypothesis, the result of the most romantic 
imagination in philosophy, destitute of all foundation in 
experience, and contradictory to the greater part of the 
phenomena. It is still more astonishing that such a 
system should have found abettors, and that the philos- 
ophy of ISTewton should have had to struggle hard for 
a considerable time before it could obtain a complete 
victory. 

To account, then, for t?ie motions of the heavenly bodies, Des- 
cartes filled the solar system with spherical vortices, or circular 
currents of fluid matter, by which he supposed the primary planets 
were carried in streams roimd the sun, and the secondary planets 
in similar streams round their primaries. But may we not ask a 
thousand unanswerable questions Avith respect to this wild theory ? 
Is the specific gravity of the matter which composes these vortices 
greater than that of the planets it supports and carries along, while 
no glasses have rendered it visible? Whence is it supplied — what 
makes it move- — or has it any thing in common with any known 
fluid ? "What produces the cohesion of its parts — or how" are the 
particles of one vortex prevented from interference with tlie par- 
ticles of other vortices, even when they intersect one another ? If 
all be resolved into the power of Omnipotence, the causes of whose 
operations are inexplicable or unknown, what need was there for 
vortices as a secondary cause ? The only conceivable use of them 
is to carry on the motions of the heavenly bodies ; and it was surely 
as easy for Omnipotence to accomplish that purpose without them 
as with them. They seem not superior in respect of ingenuity as a 
philosophical cause, to the contrivance of the Indian sciolist, who 
introduced the back of a tortoise to support the elephant which 
supported the globe of the earth. 

7« 



154 KEASONING IN A CIRCLE. 

[In the language of Dr. Watts: "There is scarcely 
any thing more common in Imman life than the sort of 
deceiiM argument just explained. If any two acciden- 
tal events happeri to concur [to be contemporaneous], 
one is presently made the cause of the other. 

"This sophism was found even in the early ages of the world. 
When the Jiuly Job was surrounded with uncommon miseries, his 
own friends inferred that he was a most heinous criminal, and 
chai-ged him with aggravated guilt as the cause of his calamities, 
though God himself by a voice from heaven solved this uncharitable 
sopliism, and cleared his servant Job of that severe charge. 

"By the same sophism, the Reformation from Popery has been 
charged with the murder and blood of millions, which, in truth, is 
to be imputed to the tyranny of the princes and the priests, who 
would not suffer the peoi)le to reform their sentiments and their 
practices according to the word of God. Thus Christianity, in the 
early ages, was chai"ged by the heathens with all the calamities 
which befell the Roman empire, because the Christians renounced 
the heathen gods and idols." 

" The way to relieve ourselves from such sophisms^ 
and to secure ourselves from the danger of falling into 
them, is an honest and diligent inquiry into the real 
causes of things, Avith a constant watchfulness against 
all those prejudices that might warp the judgment 
aside from truth in that inquiry."] 

5. Another species of sophistry is reasoning in a 
circle I or the assuming of one ^proposition to prove an- 
other.^ a7id then resting the proof of the first on the evi- 
dence of the second. The writers of the church of Rome 
are often accused of committing such blunders. They 
first prove the divine authority of their church from the 
holy Scriptures, and then the}^ employ the infallibility 
of the pope to confirm their interpretation of the Scrip- 
tures. They establish the infallibility of the pope by 
the testimony of the senses, and they employ the same 
infallibility to destroy the testimony of the senses, when 



ILLUSTRATIONS INSTEAD OF PEOOFS. 155 

these remonstrate against the credibility of the doctrine 
of transiibstantiation. 

[The following valuable additions on this subject are 
derived from Dr. Abercrombie's " Intellectual Powers," 
part iii. sec. 4. 

6. A pregnant source of fallacy is where a reasoner 
assumes a jprinci^ple^ and then launches out into various 
illustrations and analogies which are artfully made to 
hear the appearance of proof s. The cautions to be kept 
in mind in such a case are, that the illustrations and the 
analogies may be of importance, provided the principle 
has been proved ; but that if it^has not been proved, the 
illustrations must go for nothing, and even analogies 
seldom have any weight which can be considered as of 
the nature of evidence. Fallacies of this class are most 
likely to occur in the declamations of public speakers, 
and when they are set off with all the powers of elo- 
quence, it is often difficult to detect them. 

The questions which the hearer should propose to 
himself in such cases^ are — Does this really contain any 
proof bearing upon the subject, or is it mere illustration 
and analogy, in itself proving nothing ? If so, has the 
reasoner previously established his principle, or has 
he assumed it, and trusted to these analogies as his 
proofs ? 

7. A fallacy somewhat analogous to the preceding, 
consists in arguing for or against a doctrine on the 
ground of its supposed tendency^ leaving out of view the 
primary question of its truth. 

Thus, a speculator in theology will contend, in regard 
to a doctrine which he opposes, that it is derogatory to 
the character of the Deity; and, respecting another 
which he brings forward, that it represents the Deity 
in an aspect more accordant with the benignity of his 
character. The previous question in all such cases is, 



156 FALLACIES IN ANALOGICAL REASONING. 

not what is most accordant with our notions respecting 
the divine character, but what is truth. 

8. When a jyTindple which is true of one case^ or one 
class of cases ^ is extended hy analogy to others which 
differ in some important particulars. The caution to 
be observed here, is, to inquire strictly whether the 
cases are analogous, or whether there exists any differ- 
ence which makes the principle not applicable. 

An example of this fallacy is found in Mr. Hume's 
objection to miracles, that they are violations of the es- 
tablished order of nature. The cases are not analo- 
gous ; for miracles do not refer to the common course 
of nature, but to the operation of an agency altogether 
new and peculiar. Arguments founded upon analogy^ 
theYQiore, require to be itsed with the utmost caution 
when they are employed directly for the discovery or 
the establishment of truth. 

But there is another purpose to which they may be 
applied with much greater freedom^ namely., for repel- 
ling objections. Thus, if we find a person bringing ob- 
jections against a particular doctrine, it is a sound and 
valid mode of reasoning to contend that he receives 
doctrines which rest upon the same kind of evidence ; 
or that similar objections might be urged w^ith equal 
force against truths which it is impossible to call in 
question. It is in this manner that the argmnent from 
analogy is employed in the valuable work of Bishop 
Butler. He does not derive from the analogy of na- 
ture any direct argument in support of natural or i-e- 
vealed religion ; but shows that many of the objections 
which are urged against the truths of religion might 
be brought against circumstances in the economy and 
course of nature which are known and undoubted 
facts. 

9. A fallacy the reverse of the former is used by 



INYEKTIjSTG PKOPOSITIONS. 157 

sophistical writers ; namely, wlien two cases are strictly 
analogous^ they endeavor to prove that they are not so 
'by pointing out trivial differences^ not calculated in 
any degree to loeaken the force of the ancdogy. 

10. Whe7i a true general principle is made to apply 
exclusively to one fact^ or one class of facts ^ while it is 
equally true of various others. This is called in logical 
language the non-distribution of the middle term. 

In an example given by logical writers, one is sup- 
posed to maintain that corn is necessar}^ for life, because 
food is necessary for life, and corn is food. It is true 
that food is necessary, but this does not apply" to any 
one particular kind of food : it means only that food of 
some kind or other is so. When simply stated, the fal- 
lacy of such a position is at once obvious, but it may 
be introduced into an argument in such a manner as 
not to be so immediately detected. 

11. When an acknowledged proposition is inverted^ 
and the converse assumed to he equally true. 

We may say, for example^ that a badly governed 
country must be distressed ; but we are not entitled to 
assume that every distressed country is badly governed, 
for there may be many other sources of national dis- 
tress. I may say " all wise men live temperately," but 
it does not follow that every man who lives temperately 
is a wise man. 

It is, at the same time, to be kept in mind that some 
propositions do admit of heing inverted and still re- 
maining equally true. This holds most remarkably 
oi propositions which are universally negative^ as in 
an example given by writers on logic — "IS'o rumi- 
nating animal is a beast of prey." It follows, as equal- 
ly true, that no beast of prey ruminates. But if I were 
to vary the proposition by saying, " All animals which 
do not ruminate are beasts of prey," this would be ob- 



158 FALLACY OF DIVISION AND OF COMPOSITION. 

viously false : for it does not arise out of the former 
statement. 

12. A frequent som-ce oi fallacy among sophistical 
writers, consists in holdly applying a character to a class 
of facts in regard to which it carries a general aspect 
of truths without attention to important distinctions hy 
which the statement requires to he modified. 

Thus it has been objected to our belief of the mira- 
cles of the sacred writings, that they rest npon the evi- 
dence of testimony, and that testimony is fallacious. 
]^ow, when we speak of testimony in general, we may 
say, with an appearance of truth, that it is fallacious. 
But, in point of fact, testimony is to be referred to vari- 
ous species ; and thongh a large proportion of these 
may be fallacious, there is a species of testimony on 
which we rely with absolute confidence ; — ^that is, we 
feel it to be as improbable that this kind of testimony 
should deceive us, as that we should be disappointed in 
our expectation of the uniformity of nature. 

The kind of sophism now referred to, seems to corre- 
spond with that which logical writers have named the 
fallacy of division. It consists in applying to facts in 
their separate state what only belongs to them collec- 
tively. The converse of it is i\iQ fallacy of composition. 
It consists in applying to the facts collectively what be- 
longs only to them, or to some of them, in their sepa- 
rate state ; — as if one were to show that a certain kind 
of testimony is absolutely to be relied on, and thence 
were to contend that testimony in general is worthy of 
absolute confidence. 

13. A frequent fallacy consists in first overturning an 
unsound argument^ and thence reasoniiig against the 
doctrine which this alignment was meant to stipport. 
This is the part of a mere casuist, not of a sincere in- 
quirer after truth; for it by no means follows that a 



AN ARGUMENT PAKTLY TEUE, PAETLT FALSE. 169 

doctrine is false because unsound arguments have been 
adduced in support of it. Some remarkable examples 
of this fallacy relate to those important principles com- 
monly called first truths, Avhich admit of no processes 
of reasoning, and consequently are in no degree aftect- 
ed bv argmnents exposing the fallacy of such processes. 

We learn from this, on the other hand, the impor- 
tance of avoiding all lueah and inconclitsive arguments 
or doubtful statements^ for, independently of the open- 
ing which they give for sophistical objections, it is ob- 
vious that on other grounds the reasoning is only en- 
cumbered by them. It is the part of the casuist to 
rest the weight of his objections on such weak points, 
leaving out of view those which he cannot contend 
with. It may even happen that a conclusion is true, 
though the whole reasoning may have been weak, un- 
sound, and irrelevant. The casuist, of coiu'se, in such. 
a case attacks the reasoning and not the conclusion. 

On the other hand, tliere 7nay he much in an argu- 
•ment which is true^ or which may he conceded j while 
the most important part of it is untrue and the conclu- 
sion false. An inexperienced reasoner, in such a case, 
thinks i-t necessary to combat every point, and thus ex- 
poses himself to sound replies from his adversary on 
subjects w^hich are of no importance. A skilful rea- 
soner concedes or passes over all such positions, and 
rests his attack on those in which the fallacy is really 
involved. 

An example illustrative of this subject is familiar to 
those who are acquainted with the controversy respect- 
ing our idea of cause and effect. Mr. Hume stated in a 
clear manner the doctrine, that this idea is derived en- 
tirely from our experience of a uniform sequence of two 
events ; and founded on this an argument against our 
belief in a great First Cause. This led to a contro- 



160 FALLACIES INTRODtJCED OBLIQUELY. 

versy respecting the oiiginal doctrine itself; and it is 
not many years since it was contended by respectable 
individuals, that it is nothing less than the essence of 
atheism to maintain that our notion of cause and effect 
originates in the observation of a uniform sequence. It 
is now, perhaps, universally admitted that this doctrine 
is correct, and that the sophism of Mr. Hume consisted 
in deducing from it conclusions which it in no degree 
warranted. This important distinction we formerly al- 
luded to, namely, that our idea of cause and effect, in 
regard to any two individual events, is totally distinct 
from our intuitive impression of causation, or our abso- 
lute conviction that every event must have an adequate 
cause. 

14. A sophism somewhat connected with the former 
C07isists in disjproving a doctrine^ and on that account 
assuming the opposite doctrine to he true. It may be 
true, but its truth does not depend upon the falsehood 
of that which is opposed to it ; yet this will be found 
a principle of not unfrequent occurrence in unsound 
reasonings. 

15. Fallacies are often introduced in what may he 
termed an ohlique 7nannei\ or as if upon a gtnerally 
admitted authority. The effect of this is to take off 
the appearance of the statement being made directly 
by the author, and resting upon his own authority, by 
which w^e might be led to examine its truth. For this 
purpose it is put, perhaps, in the form of a question, or 
is introduced by such ex23ressions as the following : — 
"It is a remarkable fact," "It is somewhat singular," 
"It has been argued with much justice," "It wdll be 
generally admitted," &c. 

16. Fallacy tnay arise from leaving the main sub- 
ject of discussion^ and arguing upon points which 
have hut a secondary relation to it. This is one of the 



FALLACIES IN THE USE OE TERMS. 161 

resources of the casuist when he finds himself in the 
worst of the argument. 

Nearly allied to this, is the art of sMlfuUy drojpping 
jpart of a statement^ when the reasoner finds he cannot 
support it^ and going on holdly with the remainder as 
if he still maintained the whole. 

17. Much of the fallacy and anibiguity of processes 
of reasoning depends entirely on the %cse of terms. 
This may consist in two contending parties n-sing the 
same word in different meanhigs^ without defining what 
their meanings are ; in one or both using terms in a 
sense different from their commonly recognized accepta- 
tion^ or in using them in one sense i?i one part of the 
argument^ and in another in a different part of it. Such 
disputes, accordingly, are often interminable ; and this 
mode of disputation is one of the great resources of the 
casuist, or of him v/ho argues for victory, not for truth. 

The remedy is, that every reasOner shall be required 
clearly to define the terms which he employs : and that 
in every controversy certain premises o'c preliminaries 
shall he fixed in which the parties are agreed. The 
ambiguity of terms is in fact so extensive a source of 
fallacy that scarcely any sophistical argument will be 
found free from it ; as in almost every language the 
same term is used with great diversity of mean- 
ings. 

Let us take, for example, the term faith. It means 
a mere system of opinions, confidence in testimony, 
reliance on the integrity, fidelity, and stability of char- 
acter of other beings, an act of the understanding in 
regard to abstract truth presented to it, and a mental 
condition by which truths of another description exert 
a uniform influence over the moral feelings, the will, 
and the whole character. In the controversies which 
have arisen out of this word, it will probably be found 



162 DISTORTED VIEWS AND PARTIAL STATEMENTS. 

that these various meanings have not been sufficiently 
distinguished from each other. 

A celebrated passage in the " Spirit of Laws" has 
been justly referred to as a remarkable example of the 
fcame kind of sophism. "The Deity," says Montes- 
quieu, "has his laws ; the material world its laws ; in- 
telligences superior to man their laws ; the brutes tlieir 
laws ; man his laws." In this short passage the term 
laws is employed, probably in four senses, remarkably 
different. 

18. There are various other sources of fallacy, con- 
sisting chiefly in the use of arguments which cannot he 
admitted as relevant in regard to the process of rea- 
soning^ though they may carry a certain weight in ref- 
er e7ice to the individuals concerned. Among these 
may be reckoned appeals to high authorities, to popu- 
lar prejudices, or to the passions of the multitude ; and 
what is called the argumentum ad hominem. If a 
person, for example, be arguing in support of a particu- 
lar rule of conduct, we may retort upon him that his 
own conduct, in certain instances, was in direct oj^po- 
sition to it. This may be very true in regard to the 
individual, but can have no influence in the discussion 
of the question. 

19. One of the most common sources of fallacy con- 
sists of distorted vieivs and partial statements.^ — such 
as facts disguised, modified, or collected on one side of 
a question ; or arguments and authorities adduced in 
support of particular opinions, leaving out of view those 
which tend to different conclusions. 

Misstatement.^ in one form or another.^ may indeed 
be considered as a most fruitful source of controversy ; 
and, amid the contests of rival disputants, the chief dif- 
ficulty which meets the candid inquirer after truth is to 
have the subject presented to his mind without distortion. 



SOUND EXEKOISE OF JUDGMENT. 163 

Hence the importance, in every inqniry, of suspend- 
ing our judgment, and of patiently devoting ourselves 
to clear the subject from all imperfect views and par- 
tial statements. Without the most anxious attention to 
this rule, a statement may appear satisfactory, and a 
deduction legitimate, which are in fact leading us wide- 
ly astray from the truth. 



THE SOUND EXERCISE OF JUDGMENT DISTINGUISHED FROM 
THE AET OF DISPUTATION. 

[From Abercrombie.] 

The sound exercise of judgment is widely distinct 
from the art of ingenious disputation. The object of 
the former is to w^eigh fully and candidly all the rela- 
tions of things, and to give to each fact its proper 
weight in the inquiry : the aim of the latter is to seize 
with rapidity particular relations, and to find facts 
bearing upon a particular view of a subject. This 
habit, when mnch exercised, tends rather to withdraw 
the attention from the cultivation of the former. Thus 
it has not unfrequently happened that an ingenious 
pleader has made a bad judge ; and that acute and 
powerful disputants have perplexed themselves by their 
own subtleties, till they have ended by doubting of 
every thing. The same observation applies to contro- 
versial writing; and hence the hesitation with which 
we receive the arguments and statements, of a keencon- 
trovertist, and the necessity of hearing both sides. 

We have every reason to believe that though there 
may be original differences in the power of judgment, 
the chief source of the actual varieties in this impor- 
tant function is rather to be found in its culture and 
regulation. 



164 HOW THE JUDGMENT IS IMPAIRED. 

1. The judgment is impaired hy deficient culture. 
This is exemplified in that listless and indifferent 

habit of mind in which there is no exercise of correct 
thinking, or of a close and continued application of the 
attention to subjects of real importance. Opinions are 
received from others without the exertion of thinking 
or examining for one's self. 

There is another condition of mind in which opinions 
are formed on slight and partial examination, perhaps 
from viewing one side of a question, or, at least, with- 
out a full and candid direction of the attention to all 
the facts which ought to be taken into the inquiry. 

2. The judgment is vitiated hy v^ant of due regula- 
tion / and this ^inay he ascrihed chiefly to two sources — 
prejudice and passion. Prejudice consists in the for- 
mation of opinion before \\i^ subject has been examined. 
The highest degree of it is exemplified in that condi- 
tion of the mind in which a man first forms an opinion 
which interest or inclination may have suggested ; then 
proceeds to collect arguments in support of it ; and con- 
cludes by reasoning himself into the belief of what he 
wishes to be true. 

The same observations apply to passion^ or the influ- 
ence exerted by the moral feelings. 

There is one class of truths to which these facts ap- 
ply with peculiar force, namely, those which relate to 
the moral government of God, and the condition of man 
as a responsible being. These great truths, and the 
evidence on which they are founded, are addressed to 
our judgment as rational beings ; they are pressed upon 
our attention as creatures destined to another state of 
existence ; and the sacred duty from which no individ- 
ual can be absolved, is a voluntary exercise of his 
thinking and reasoning powers, — it is seriously and de- 
liberately to consider. On these subjects a man may 



PKESUMPTIONS AND BURDEN OF PROOF. 165 

frame any system for himself, and may rest in that sys- 
tem as truth ; but the solemn inquiry is, not what opin- 
ions he has formed, but in what manner he has formed 
them. Has he approached the great inquiry w^ith a 
sincere desire to discover the truth ; and has he brought 
to it a mind, neither misled by prejudice nor distorted 
by the condition of its moral feelings ; — has he directed 
his attention to all the facts and evidences with an in- 
tensity suited to their momentous importance ; and has 
he conducted the whole investigation with a deep and 
serious feeling that it carries with it an interest which 
reaches into eternity ? 



THE VAEIOUS USE AND OEDEE OF SEVEEAL KINDS OF PEG- 
POSITIONS AND OF AEGUxMENTS IN DIFFEEENT CASES. 

[Compiled from Whately's Rhetoric, Part I. Chapter III] 

Sec. 1. — Presumptions and Burden of Proof. 

It is a point of great im.portance to decide in each 
case, at the outset, in your own mind, and clearly to 
point out to the hearer, as occasion may serve, on 
which side the presumption lies, and to which belongs 
the [onus probandi] hurden of proof. For though it 
may often be expedient to bring forward more proofs 
than can be fairly demanded of you, it is always desira- 
ble, when this is the case, that it should be Jcnown^ and 
that the strength of the cause should be estimated ac- 
cordino^lv. 

A '' presumption" in favor of any supposition means, 
not a preponderance of probability in its favor, but 
such ^preoccupation of the ground as implies that it 
mnst stand good till some sufficient reason is adduced 
against it ; in short, that the hurden of proof lies on the 
side of him who would dispute it. 



166 PEESinilPTIONS AND BUKDEN OF PROOF. 

Thus, it is a well-known principle of the law, that 
every man (inclnding a prisoner brought up for trial) is 
to be j9r66-z«7i^(:Z innocent till his guilt is established. 
This does not, of course, mean that we are to take for 
granted he is innocent ; for if that w^ere the case he 
would be entitled to immediate liberation ; nor does it 
mean that it is antecedently more likely than not that 
he is innocent ; or, that the majority of those brought 
to trial are so. It evidently means only that the " bur- 
den of proof" lies with the accusers; that he is not to 
be called on to prove his innocence, or to be dealt with 
as a criminal, till he has done so ; but that they are to 
bring their charges against him, w^hich if he can repel, 
he stands acquitted. 

Thus, again, there is a " presumption" in favor of any 
individuals, or bodies corporate, to the property of 
w^iich the}^ are in actual jjossession. This does not 
mean that they are, or are not, likely to be the rightful 
owners ; but merely, that no man is to be disturbed in 
his possessions till some claim against him shall be es- 
tablished. He is not to be called on to prove his right, 
but the claimant to disprove it, upon w^hom conse- 
quently the " burden of proof" lies. 

A moderate portion of common sense will enable 
any one to perceive and to show on which side the pre- 
sumption lies, when once his attention is called to this 
question ; though, for want of attention, it is often over- 
looked, and on the determination of this question the 
whole character of a discussion will often very much 
depend. A body of troops may be perfectly adequate 
to the defence of a fortress against any attack that may 
be made against it, and yet if, ignorant of the advan- 
tage they possess, they sally forth into the open field to 
encounter the enemy, ih^j may suffer a repulse. At 
any rate, even if strong enough to act on the offensive, 



PEESUMPTIONS AND BUKDEN OF PEOOF. 167 

thej ought still to keep possession ol* the fortress. In 
like manner, if yon have the ''presumption" on jonr 
side, and can but refute all the arguments brouglit 
against yon, yon have, for the present at least, gained 
a victory ; but if yon abandon this position, by suli'er- 
ing this "presumption" to be forgotten, which is in 
fact leaving out one of jperliajps^ your strongest argu- 
ments^ yon may appear to be making a feeble attack, 
instead of a triumphant defence. 

The following are a few of the cases in which it is 
important^ thongh very easy, to jooint out %oher& the 
jpresumjption lies. 

(1.) There is a jpresmnj^tion in favor of every exist- 
ing institution. Though susceptible of alteration for 
the better, the " burden of proof " to that effect lies 
with him who ]3i'oposes an alteration, simply on the 
ground that as a change is not a good in itself, he who 
demands a change should show cause for it. 

(2.) There is a jpresuw^jption against any thing jpara- 
doxical.) i. e., contrary to the prevailing opinion. It 
may be true, but the burden of proof lies with him who 
maintains it, since men are not to be expected to aban- 
don the prevailing belief till some reason is shown. 

Hence it is, probably, that many are accustomed to 
apply "paradox" as if it were a term of reproach, and 
implied absurdity or falsity. But correct use is in 
favor of the etymological sense. If a paradox is un- 
supported it ca-n claim no attention ; but, if false, it 
should be censured on that ground, — but not for being 
new. To those who, too dull or too prejudiced to admit 
any notion at variance w^ith those they have been used 
to entertain (^rapa od|av), that may appear nonsense 
which to others is sound sense. Thus, " Christ cruci- 
fied" w^as " to the Jews a stumbling-block" (paradox), 
" and to the Greeks, foolishness ;" because the one " re- 



168 PKESUMPTIONS AND BUEDEN OF PKOOF. 

quired a sign" of a different kind from any that ap- 
peared ; and the others " sought after wisdom" in their 
schools of phik")Sophy. 

(3.) Accordingly there was a jpresuw/ption against 
the Gospel on its first announcement. A Jewish peas- 
ant claimed to be the promised Deliverer, in whom all 
the nations of the earth w^ere to be blessed. The bur- 
den of proof lay with him. JSTo one could be fairly 
called on to admit his pretensions till he showed cause 
for believing in him. If he " had not done among 
them the worlcs which none other man did, they had 
not had sin." 

Noiu^ the ca,se is reversed. Christianity exists y and 
those who deny the divine origin attributed to it, are 
bound to show some reasons for assigning to it a hu- 
man origin : not, indeed, to prove that it did originate 
in this or that wa}^, without supernatural aid, but to 
point out some conceivable way in which it might have 
so arisen. 

It is, indeed, highly expedient to bring forward evi- 
dence to establish the divine origin of Christianity; 
but it ought to be more carefully kept in mind than is 
done by most writers, that all this is an argument " ex 
abundant!," as the phrase is, over and above what can 
fairly be called for, till some hypothesis should be 
framed to account for the origin of Christianity by hu- 
man means. The burden of proof now lies plainly on 
him who rejects the Gospel ; w^hich, if it were not es- 
tablished by miracles, demands an explanation of the 
greater miracle, — its having been established, in defi- 
ance of all opposition, by human contrivance. 

(4.) It is to be observed that a presumption may he 
rebutted hy an ojypo site presumption^ so as to shift the 
hurden of proof to the other side. E. g., Suj^pose you 
had advised the removal of some existing restrictiou-^ 



MATTERS OF FACT AND OF OPINION. 169 

joii mi gilt be, in the first instance, called on to take the 
burden of proof, and allege join' reasons for the change, 
on the ground that there is a presumption against every 
change. But. you might fairly reply — "True, but there 
is another presumption which rebuts the former : every 
restriction is in itself an evil, and therefore there is a 
presumption in favor of its removal, unless it can be 
shown necessary for prevention of some greater evil. 
I am not bound to allege any sjoeoifiG inconvenience ; if 
the restriction is unnecessary^ that is reason enough for 
its abolition : its defenders, therefore, are fairly called 
on to prove its necessity." 

Sec. 2. — Matteks of Fact and of Opinion. 

The class of argument called example^ is not excluded 
from the proof of matters of opinion (i. e., where we are 
not said properly to know^ but to judge) \ since a man's 
judgment in one case may be aided or corrected by an 
appeal to his judgment in another similar case. It is 
in this w^ay that we are directed, by the highest au- 
thority, to guide our judgment in those questions in 
which we are most liable to deceive ourselves ; viz., 
w^hat, on each occasion, ought to be our conduct to- 
wai-ds another, we are directed to frame for ourselves a 
similar supposed case, by imagining ourselves to change 
places with our neighbor, and then considering how, in 
that case, we should in fairness expect to be treated. 

This, however, which is the true use of the celebrated 
precept " to do as we would be done by," is often over- 
looked, and it is spoken of as if it were a rule designed 
to supersede all other moral maxims, and to teach us 
the intrinsic character of right and wrong. This ab- 
surd mistake may be one cause why the precept is so 
much more talked, than attempted to be applied. For 
it could not be applied, with any good result, by one 



170 rLLUSTRATION AND SIMILE DISTINGUISHED. 

who should have no notions abeady formed of what is 
jnst and unjust. 

To take one instance out of many : if he had to de- 
cide a dispute between two of his neighbors, he would 
be sure that each was wishing for a decision in his own 
favor, and he would be at a loss, therefore, how to com- 
ply with the precept in respect of either, without viola- 
ting it in respect of the other. The true meaning of 
the precept plainly is, that you should do to another, not 
necessarily what you would wisJi^ but what you would 
exjpect as fair and reasonable^ if you were in his place. 
This evidently presupposes that you have a knowledge 
of what is fair and reasonable, and the precept then fur- 
nishes a formula for the application of this knowledge, 
in a case where you would be liable to be blinded by 
self-partiality. 

Ilhcstration and sifnile clisti7iguished. It is of the 
greatest consequence to distinguish between examples 
(of the invented kind), properly so called — i. e., which 
have the force of arguments — and comparisons intro- 
duced for the ornament of style, in the form either of 
simile or of metaphor. ]^ot only is an injurious com- 
parison mistaken for a proof, though it be such as when 
tried by proper rules affords no proof at all, but also, on 
the other hand, a real and valid argument is not unfre- 
quently considered merely as an ornament of style, if it 
happen to be such as to produce that effect — though 
there is evidently no reason why that should not be fair 
analogical reasoning, in which the new idea introduced 
by the analogy chances to be a sublime or a pleasing 
one. E. g., " The efficacy of penitence, and ]3iety, and 
prayer, in rendering the Deity propitious, is not irrec- 
oncilable with the immutability of his nature and the 
steadiness of his purposes. It is not in man's power to 
alter the course of the sun, but it is often in his power 



PEEOEDENCE OF ARGUMENTS FEOM CAUSE TO EFFECT. 171 

to cause the sun to shine or not to shine upon him ; if 
he withdraws from its beams, or spreads a curtain be- 
fore him, the sun no longer shines on him ; if he quits 
the shade, or removes the curtain, the light is restored 
to him ; and though no change is in the mean time 
effected in the heavenly luminary, but only in himself, 
the result is the same as if it were. J^or is the immu- 
tability of God any reason why the returning sinner, 
who tears away the veil of 2)rejudice or of indifference, 
should not again be blessed with the sunshine of the 
divine favor." The image here introduced is ornamen- 
tal, but the argument is not the less perfect, since the 
case adduced fairly establishes the general principle 
required, that, " a change effected in one of two objects 
having a certain relation to each other, may have the 
same practical result as if it had taken place in the 
other." 

The mistake in question is still more likely to occur 
when such an argument is conveyed in a single term 
employed metaphorically, as is generally the case 
where the allusion is common and obvious ; e. g., " We 
do not receive as the genuine doctrines of the primitive 
church what have passed down the polluted stream of 
tradition." The argument here is not the less valid for 
being conveyed in the form of a metaphor. 

Sec. 3. — Arguments from Cause to Effect have the 
Precedence. 
Men are apt to listen with prejudice to the arguments 
adduced to prove any thing which appears abstractedly 
improbable, and this prejudice is to be removed by the 
argument from cause to effect, which thus prepares the 
way for the reception of the other arguments. For 
example, if a man who bore a good character were 
accused of corruption, the strongest evidence against 



I'r2 ARRANGEMENT OF ARGUMENTS IMPORTANT. 

him might avail little ; but if he were proved to be of 
a covetous disposition, this, though it would not alone 
be allowed to substantiate the crime, would have great 
weight in inducing his judges to lend an ear to the 
evidence. And thus in what relates to the future also, 
the a ])riori argument and example support each other. 
A sufficient cause being established, leaves us still at 
liberty to suppose that there may be circumstances 
which will prevent the eifect from taking place ; but 
examples subjoined show that these circumstances do 
not, at least always, prevent that effect. On the other 
hand, examples introduced at the first, may be suspected 
(unless they are very numerous) of being exceptions to 
the general rule, instead of being instances of it, which 
an adequate cause previously assigned will show them 
to be. For example, if any one had argued, from the 
temptations and opportunities occurring to a military 
commander, that BonajDarte was likely to establish a 
despotism on the ruins of the French Republic, this 
argument, by itself, would have left men at liberty to 
suppose that such a result could have been prevented 
by a jealous attachment to liberty in the citizens, and a 
fellow-leeling of the soldiery with them ; then, the ex- 
amples of Caesar and of Cromwell would have proved 
that such preventives are not to be trusted. 

Arrangeinent is a point not perhaps of less conse- 
quence in argument^ than in the military art. For 
example, in stating the evidences of our religion, so as 
to give them their just weight, much depends on the 
order in w^hich they are placed. The antecedent prob- 
ability that a revelation should be given to m.an, and 
that it should be established by miracles, all would 
allow to be, considered by itself, in the absence of 
strong direct testimony, utterly insufficient to establish 
the conclusion. 



ILLUSTRATION OF THIS. 173 

On the other hand, miracles, considered abstractedly, 
as represented to have occurred without anj occasion 
for them or reason being assigned, carry with them 
snch a strong inherent improbability, as > could not be 
wholly surmounted even by such evidence as would 
fully establish any other matters of fact. But the evi- 
dences of the former class, however ineihcient alone 
towards the establishment of the conclusion, have very 
great weight in preparing the mind for receiving the 
other arguments, which, again, though they would be 
listened to with prejudice if not so supported, will then 
be allowed their just weight. 

The writers in defence of Christianity have not al- 
ways attended to this principle, and their opponents 
have often availed themselves of the knowledge of it, 
by combating in detail arguments, the combined force 
of which would have been irresistible. They argue 
respecting the credibility of the Christian miracles ab- 
stractedly, as if they were insulated occurrences, without 
any known or conceivable purpose; as, e. g., "What 
testimony is sufficient to establish the belief that a dead 
man w^as restored to life ?" and then they proceed to 
show that the probability of a revelation, abstractedly 
considered, is not such at least to establish the fact 
that one has been given. Whereas, if it were first 
proved (as may easily be done) merely that there is no 
such abstract improbability of a revelation as to ex- 
clude the evidence in favor of it, and that if one were 
given, it must be expected to be supported by miracu- 
lous evidence, then, just enough reason would be as- 
signed for the occurrence of miracles, not indeed to 
establish them, but to allow a fiiir hearing for the argu- 
ments by which they are supported. 



174 AEEANGESIENT OF PFwEMISES AND CONCLUSION. 

Sec. 4. — "When Tin: Premises and when the Conclu- 
sion SHOULD come first. 

A ][)Toposition that is well known (whether easy to 
be established or not), and which contains nothing 
particularly offensive^ should in general he stated at 
once^ and the proof s subjoined; hut one not familiar to 
the hearers^ especially if it he likely to he unacceptable^ 
shoidd not he stated at the outset. It is usual] j better 
in that case to state the arguments first, or at least some 
of them, and then introduce the conclusion, thus assu- 
ming in some degree the character of an investigator. 

This, indeed, is the usual and natural way of speaking 
or writing, viz., to begin by declaring your opinion, and 
then to subjoin the reasons for it. It will sometimes 
give an oftensively dogmatical air, to begin by advan- 
cing some new and unexpected assertion ; though some- 
times, again, this may be advisable, when the argu- 
ments are such as can be well relied on, and the prin- 
cipal object is to excite attention and awaken curiosity. 
And accordingly, with this view, it is not unusual to 
present some doctrine, by no means really novel, in a 
new and paradoxical shape. 

But when the conclusion to he established is one lihely 
to hurt the feelings and offend the prejudices of the 
hearers^ it is essential to keep out of sight^ as much as 
possible^ the point to which we are tending.^ till the pi'in- 
ciplcs from ^ohich it is to he deduced shall have been 
clearly established ; because men listen with prejudice, if 
at all, to arguments that are avowedly leading to a con- 
clusion which they are indisposed to admit ; whereas, 
if we thus, as it were, mask the battery, they will not 
be able to shelter themselves from the discharge. The 
observance, accordingly, or neglect of this rule, will 
often make the difference of success or failure. 



ADVANCE FROM GENERAL TO PARTICULAR. 175 

It will often he advisctble to advance very gradually 
to the fidl statement of the projposition required^ and 
to prove it, if one may so S]3eak, by instalments ; estab- 
lishing separately, and in order, eacb part of tlie ti'iitli 
in question. 

Thus Paley (in his Evidences) first proves that the 
apostles, &c., suffered', next, that they encountered 
their sufferings hnoioingly i then, that it was for their 
testimony that they suffered ; then, that the events 
they testified were miraculous ; then, that those events 
were the same as are recorded in our books, &c., &c. 

Advance from general to particidar. It will often 
happen that some general j[>rinci])le^ of no very para- 
doxical character, may be proposed in the outset (just 
as besiegers break ground at a safe distance, and ad- 
vance gradually till near enough to batter) ; and when 
that is established, an unexpected and unwelcome ajj)- 
jplication of it may be proved irresistibly. 

We shall thus have to reverse, in many cases, the 
order in which, during the act of composition (or pre- 
meditation), the thoughts will have occurred to our 
minds ; for in reflecting on any subject, we are usually 
disposed to generalize / to proceed from the particular 
point immediately before us, successively, to more and 
more comprehensive views ; the opposite order to which 
will usually be the better adapted to engage and keep 
up attention, and to effect conviction. 

Waiving a question. It is often expedient^ sometimes 
unavoidable, to waive for the present some question^ or 
^portion of a question^ while our attention is occupied 
with another point. ISTow it cannot too carefully be 
kept in mind, that it is a common mistake with inaccu- 
rate reasoners (and a mistake which is studiously kept 
up by an artful sophist) to suppose that Avhat is thus 
waived is altogether given up. " Such a one does not 



ITB WAIVING A QUESTION. 

attempt to prove this or that ;" " he does not deny so 
and so ;" " he tacitly admits that such may be the 
case," &c., are expressions which one may often hear 
triumphantly employed on no better grounds. And 
yet it is very common in mathematics for a question to 
be w^aived in this manner. 

The only remedy is, to state distinctly and repeatedly 
that you do not abandon as untenable such and such a 
position, which you are not at present occupied in main- 
taining : that you are not to be understood as admitting 
the truth of this or that, though you do not at present 
undertake to disprove it. 

When needful to account for any fact. If the argu- 
ment a priori has been introduced, in the proof of the 
Biain proposition in question, there will generally be 
no need of afterwards adducing causes to account 
for the truth established, since that will have been 
already done in the course of the argument : on the 
other hand, it will often be advisable to do this 
when arguments of the other class have alone been 
employed. 

For it is in every case agreeable and satisfactory, and 
may often be of great utility, to explain where it can 
be done, the causes which produce an effect that is itself 
already admitted to exist. But it must be remembered 
that it is of great importance to make it clearly appear 
which object is, in each case, proposed ; whether to 
establish the fact, or to account for it ; since otherwise 
we may often be supposed to be employing a feeble ar- 
gument : for that which is a satisfactory explanation 
of an admitted fact, will frequently be such as would 
be very insufficient to prove it, supposing it w^ere 
doubted. 



EEFTTATION OF OBJECTIONS. 1Y7 

Section 5. — JRefutation of objections shoitld gener- 
erally he placed in the midst of the argument / but 
nearer the beginning than the end. 

If, indeed, very strong objections have obtained 
mnch cnrrency, or have been just stated by an oppo- 
nent, so that what is asserted is likely to be regarded as 
paradoxical, it may be advisable to begin with a refu- 
tation ; but when this is not the case, the mention of 
objections in the opening wdll be likely to give a para- 
doxical air to our assertion, by implying a consciousness 
that much may be said against it. If, again, all men- 
tion of objections be deferred till the last, the other 
arguments will often be listened to with prejudice by 
those who may suppose us to be overlooking what may 
be urged on the other side. 

Sometimes, indeed, it will be difficult to give a sat- 
isfactory refutation of the opposed opinions till we have 
gone through the arguments in support of our own : 
even in that case, however, it will be better to take 
some brief notice of them early in the composition (or 
discussion), with a promise of afterwards considering 
them more fully, and refuting them. This is Aristotle's 
usual procedure. 

A sophistical use is often made of this last ride., 
when the objections are such as cannot really be satis- 
factorily answered. The skilful sophist will often, by 
the promise of a triumphant refutation hereafter, gain 
attention to his own statement, wdiich, if it be made 
plausible, will so draw off the hearer's attention from 
the objecticns, that a very inadequate fulfilment of that 
promise w^ill pass unnoticed, and due weight will not be 
allowed to the objections. 

2wo QTiodes of refutation. The first is by proving 
the contradictions of the proposition we oppose ; the 

8- 



178 KEFUTATION BY DIRECT OK INDIKECT REAS6NING. 

second, by overtlirowing the arguments by wliicli it has 
been supported. 

Direct and indirect reasoning are employed indiffer- 
ently in refutation ; but the latter (in which the absur- 
dity or falsity of a proposition opposed to our own is 
proved) is often chosen, as it affords an opportunity of 
holding up an opponent to scorn and ridicule, by dedu- 
cing some very absuid conclusion from the principles 
he maintains, or according to the mode of arguing he 
employs. Nor indeed can a fallacy be so clearly ex- 
posed to unlearned persons in any other way. 

Ironical effect of indirect arguments. AVhen we 
employ the categorical form, and assume as true the 
premises we design to disprove, it is evident we must 
be speaking ironically^ and in the character, assumed 
for the moment, of an adversary; w^lien, on the contra- 
ry, we use the hypothetical form, there is no irony. 
Butler's Analogy is an instance of the latter procedure : 
he contends that if such and such objections were ad- 
missible against religion, they would be applicable 
equally to the constitution and course of nature. Had 
he, on the other hand, assumed, for the argument's sake, 
that such objections against religion are valid, and had 
thence proved the condition of the natural world to be 
totally different from Avhat we see it to be, his argu- 
ments, which would have been the same in substance, 
would have assumed the ironical form. This form is 
adopted in the " Historic Doubts," whose object is to 
show that objections similar to those against the Scrip- 
ture history, and much mxore plausible, might be urged 
against all the received accounts of i^apoleon Bona- 
parte. 

It is in some respects a recommendation of this latter 
method, and in others an objection to it, that the sophis- 
try of an adversary will often be exposed by it in a 



SOPHISTRY EXPOSED IN A LUDICROUS MANNER. 179 

ludicrous point of view, and this even when no such 
effect is designed ; the very essence of gist being its 
mimic sojohistry. This will often give additional force 
to the argument by the vivid impression which ludic- 
rous images j)roduce ; but again it will not unfrequently 
have this disadvantage^ that weak men, perceiving the 
wit, are apt to conclude that nothing hut wit is designed, 
and lose sight perhaps of a solid and convincing argu- 
ment, which they regard as no more than a good joke. 
Having been warned that " ridicule is not the test of 
truth," and that " wisdom and wit" are not the same 
thing, they distrust every thing that can possibly be re- 
garded as witty, not having judgment to perceive the 
combination, when it occurs, of wit with sound reason- 
ing. The ivy-wreath completely conceals from their 
view the point of the Thyrsus. 

Moreover, if such a mode of argument be employed 
on serious subjects, some are scandalized by what ap- 
pears to them a profanation ; not having discernment 
to perceive when it is that the ridicule does, and when 
it does not, affect the solemn subject itself. 

And, moreover, the resentment and mortification felt 
by those whose unsound doctrines or sophistry are fully 
exposed and held up to contempt or ridicule, — this they 
will often disguise from others, and sometimes from 
themselves, by representing the contempt or ridicule 
as directed against serious or sacred subjects, and not 
against their own absm-dities. 

Too much stress is often laid itj>on refutation — in the 
sense of objections to the premises or the reasoning : 
for, first, not only specious, but real and solid argu- 
ments, such as it would be difficult or impossible to re 
fute, may be urged agamst a proposition which is 
nevertheless true, and may be satisfactorily established 
by a prejjonderance of probability. It is in strictly 



180 BALANCING OF OBJECTIONS. 

scientific reasoning alone that all the arguments which 
lead to a wrong conclusion must be fallacious. In 
what is called moral or probable reasoning, there 
may be sound arguments and valid objections on both 
sides. 

Now, it often happens that the inexperienced rea- 
soner, thinking it necessary that every objection should 
be satisfactorily answered, will have his attention drawn 
off from the arguments of the opposite side, and will be 
occupied perhaps in making a weak defence, while vic- 
tory was in his hands. The objection, perhaps, may be 
unanswerable, and yet may safely be allowed, if it can 
be shown that more and weightier objections lie against 
every other supposition. This is a most important cau- 
tion for those who are studying the evidences of re- 
ligion. Let the opposer of them be called on, instead 
of confining himself to detached cavils, and saying, 
'' How do you answer this ?" and " how do you explain 
that ?" to frame some consistent hypothesis to account 
for the introduction of Christianity by human means ; 
and then to consider whether there are more or fewer 
difficulties in his hypothesis than in the other. 

Sophistical refittation. On the other hand, one may 
often meet with a sophistical refutation of objections, 
consisting in counter-objections urged against something 
else which is taken for granted to be, though it is not 
the only alternative. E. g.. If an exclusive attention to 
mathematical pursuits be objected to, it may be an- 
swered by deprecating the exclusion of such studies. It 
is thus that a man commonly replies to the censure 
passed on any vice he is addicted to, by representing 
some other vice as worse : e. g., if he is blamed for be- 
ing a sot, he dilates on the greater enormity of being a 
thief, as if there were any need (or any apology) for 
being either. 



DANGER OF ADVANCING TOO MUCH. 181 

Over-estiniate of the force of refutation. Secondly, 
the force of a refutation is often overrated : an argic- 
ment which is satisfactorily answered, ought merely to 
go for nothing ; it is possible that the conclusion drawn 
may nevertheless be true ; yet men are apt to take for 
granted that the conclusion itself is disproved, when 
the arguments brought forward to establish it have 
been satisfactorily refuted ; assuming, when perhaps 
there is no ground for the assnmption, that these are all 
the arguments that could be urged. 

Hence the danger of ever advancing more than can 
he well maintained.^ since the refutation of that will 
often quash the whole. A guilty person may often es- 
cape by having too much laid to his charge : so he may 
also by having too mnch evidence against him ; i. e., 
some that is not in itself satisfactory. Thus a prisoner 
may sometimes obtain acquittal by showing that one of 
the witnesses against him is an infamous informer and 
spy ; though perhaps if that part of the evidence had 
been omitted, the rest wonld have been sufficient for 
conviction. 

The maxim here laid down applies only in those 
causes where there really are some weighty arguments 
to be urged. 

On the above principle, that a weak argument is posi- 
tively hurtful, is founded a most important maxim, that 
it is not only the fairest, but also the wisest plan, to 
state objections in their full force / at least whenever 
there does exist a satisfactory answer to them ; other- 
wise, those who hear them stated more strongly than by 
the nncandid advocate who had undertaken to repel 
them, will naturally enough conclude that they are un- 
answerable. And when the objections urged are not 
only unanswerable, but (what is more) decisive^ — when 
some argument that has been adduced, or some portion 



182 TOO EARNEST A REFUTATION OF ARGUMENTS. 

of a system, &c., is perceived to be really unsound, it is 
the wisest way fairly and fully to confess this, and 
abandon it altogether. 

It is important to observe, that too earnest and elab- 
orate a refutation of arguments wJiioh are really insig- 
nificant^ or which their opponent wishes to represent ao 
such, will frequently have the effect of giving them im- 
portance. Whatever is slightly noticed, and afterwards 
passed by with contempt, many readers and hearers 
will very often conclude (sometimes for no other reason) 
to be really contemptible. But if they are assured of 
this again and again with great earnestness, they often 
begin to doubt it. 

In other cases, also, it may happen that it shall be 
possible and dangerous to write or sjyealc too forcibly. 
When, indeed, the point maintained is one w^hich most 
persons admit, but which they are prone to lose sight 
of or to underrate in respect of its importance, or not 
to dwell on with an attention sufficiently practical, that 
is just the occasion which calls on us to put forth all 
our efforts in setting it forth in the most forcible man- 
ner possible. Yet, even here, it is often necessary to 
caution the hearers against imagining that a point is 
difficult to establish, because its imjjortance leads us to 
dwell very much upon it. Some, e. g., are apt to 
suppose, from the copious and elaborate arguments 
which have been urged in defence of the authenticity 
of the Christian Scriptures, that these are books w^hose 
authenticity is harder to be established than that of 
other supposed ancient works ; whereas, the fact is very 
much the reverse. But the imjportance and the diffi- 
culty of proving any point are very apt to be con- 
founded together, though easily distinguishable. 

In conibating d.ee'p-rooted ^yrejudices^ and maintain' 
ing unfopulwr and paradoxical truths^ the point to be 



EMPLOYING TOO MANY ARGUMENTS. 183 

aimed at slionld be, to adduce lohat is sufficient, and 
not much more than is sajflcieTit^ to prove your conclu- 
sion. If (in such a case) you can but satisfy men that 
yonr opinion is decidedly more probable than the op- 
posite, you will have carried your point more effectual- 
ly than if you go on much beyond this to demonstrate, 
by a multitude of the most forcible arguments, the ex- 
treme absurdity of thinking differently, till you have 
affronted the self-esteem of some, and awakened the 
distrust of others. Laborers who are employed in dri- 
ving wedges into a block of wood, are careful to use 
blows of no greater force than is just sufficient. If 
they strike too hard, the elasticity of the wood will 
throw out the wedge. 

Another danger is to he apprehended from employ- 
ing a great member and variety of arguments (whether 
for refutation or otherwise); namely, that some of 
them, though really unanswerable, may be drawn from 
topics of which the unlearned reader or hearer is not, 
by his own knowledge, a competent judge ; and these 
a crafty opponent will immediately assail, keej)ing all 
the rest out of sight, knowing that he is thus transfer- 
ring the contest to another field, in which the result is 
sure to be practically a drawn battle. 

There is a difference between simply disproving an 
error .^ and showing lohence it arose. Merely to prove 
that a certain position is untenable, if this be done 
quite decisively, ought ^ indeed, to be sufficient to in- 
duce every one to abandon it: but if we can also suc- 
ceed (which is usually a more difficult task) in tracing 
the erroneous opinion up to its origin., — in destroying 
not only the branches but the root of the error, — this 
will afford much more complete satisfaction, and will 
be likely to produce a more lasting effect. 

The arguments vMch should be placed first in order ^ 



184 ORDEK OF AKGUMENTS. 

are, coeteris jyaribus^ the most obvious^ and such as nat- 
urally first occur. 

This is evidently the natural order ; and the adhe- 
rence to it gives an easy, natural air to discourse. It 
is seldom, therefore, worth while to depart from it for 
the sake of beginning with the most powerful argu- 
ments (when they happen not to be also the most ob- 
vious) ; or, on the other hand, for the sake of reserving 
these to the last, and beginning with the weaker ; or, 
again, of imitating, as some recommend, Nestor's plan 
of drawing up troops, placing the best first and last, 
and the weakest in the middle. 

It will be advisable, however (and by this means you 
may secure this last advantage), when the strongest ar- 
guments naturally occupy the foremost place, to recoj- 
fitulate in a reverse order ^ which will destroy the ap- 
pearance of anti-climax, and is also in itself the most 
easy and natural mode of recapitulation. 



OF DISPOSITION OR METHOD. 
[From "Watts' Logic] 

It is the art of method which must secure our 
thoughts from that confusion, darkness, and mistake 
which unavoidably attend the meditations and discour- 
ses even of the brightest genius who despises the rules 
of it. 

Method is the disposition of a variety of thoughts on 
any subject in such order as may best serve to dis- 
cover unknown truths, to explain and confirm truths 
that are known, and to fix them in the memory. 

EULES OF METHOD. 

Rule I. It must be safe and secure from error. 



RULES OF METHOD. 185 

Great care must be employed in laying the foundation 
and forming the scheme of thought upon any subject. 
Those propositions which are to stand as first princi- 
ples, and on which the whole argument depends, must 
be well guarded. The general definitions and descrip- 
tions should be as accurate as the nature of the subject 
will bear. As we proceed in our argument, no feeble 
link must be admitted into the chain ; and our argu- 
ment must be drawn up with such just limitations 
as may preclude or anticipate objections, so far as it 
may be done without too much encumbering the pro- 
cess of argument. 

KuLE 11. The method should be plain, and easy of 
comprehension. We should begin with those things 
which are more obvious, and thus prepare the way for 
those which are more difficult. Too many thoughts or 
reasonings should not be crowded into a single sen- 
tence or paragraph. E"umerous subdivisions should be 
avoided. 

Rule III. Method should be distinct^ and each part 
of the subject should be kept in its owm place. 

Rule IY. The method of treating a subject should 
be full^ so that nothing may be wanting: nothing 
which is necessary or proper should be omitted. 

When called to explain a subject, the difficult or 
obscure parts should not be passed over. 

The parts or properties of any subject should be 
enumerated in a complete and comprehensive manner. 

In asserting or proving any truth, every doubtful or 
disputable point should be well supported and con- 
firmed. 

In the illustration or arguing of a point of difficulty 
w^e may employ copiousness and diffuseness of lan- 
guage, so as to set the truth in various lights, and turn 
the various sides of it to view. 



186 EtJLES OF METHOD. 

In drawing np a narrative of any matter of fact, no 
important circnmstaiice should be omitted. 

This falness of method does not require that every 
thing should be said which can be said upon any sub- 
ject; but only so much as is necessary to the design in 
view, and which has a direct tendency to this end. 

Rule Y. As method should be full without de- 
ficiency, so it should be hrief^ cr without superfluity. 
All needless repetitions of the same thing in different 
parts of the discourse should be avoided : no one part 
should be drawn ont to a tedious length, or so far as to 
preclude a proper attention to subsequent, and perhaps 
more important parts of a discourse. Explicatives 
should not be multiplied where there is no difficulty, 
or darkness, or danger of mistake. IN'or shonld those 
things be sustained by a formal proof which are too 
plain to reqnire it. Again, there are other things so 
evidently false that they require no refutation. 

There is a hap23y medium to be observed in our 
method, so that the brevity may not render the sense 
obscure nor the argument feeble ; and on the other 
hand, that the fulness of our method may not waste 
time, tire the hearer, or fill the mind with trifles and 
impertinences. 

Rule YI. The facts of a discourse should he loell 
connected. Keep ahvays in view^ the main end and de- 
sign, and let all the parts of discourse tend visibly to- 
wards it. Let the mutual relation and dependence of 
the several branches be so jnst and evident, that every 
part may naturally lead onward to the next, without 
any large chasms to interrupt the scheme. In passing 
from one part of discourse to another, the most graceful 
and appropriate forms of transition should be studied 
and practised.] 



BTLLOGISM. 187 



LECTURE X. 

SYLLOGISM. 

In explaining the nature of reasoning, I have not 
pretended to teach any art regarding the investigation 
of truth and knowledge, except careful attention to 
attain clear ideas, and patient comparison of these 
ideas. I know no other art, nor do I know any useful 
and successful inquirer who has employed any other. 
From the days of Aristotle, however, to the revival of 
letters, somewhat more than two centuries ago,, all 
learned men, ahnost, imagined that they possessed such 
an art, and many still hold the syllogistic method of 
that eminent ancient to be what they call an analysis of 
the art of reasoning, though they admit that it cannot 
easily be employed to any useful purpose in philosophy 
or business. 

The history of learning has not to exhibit another 
such singular and curious phenomenon, as the progress 
and the influence of the logic of Aristotle. It was de- 
lineated almost as fully in the waitings of that author, 
as it has been in the numerous and more voluminous 
compositions of his foliow^ers. If we except the addi- 
tion of examples of the different figures and modes of 
syllogisms, little important improvement has been add- 
ed to the researches and explanations of the inventor. 

In all Aristotle's writings there is some obscurity. He either 
had not, or would not exert, the faculty of explaining his meaning 
simply and intelligibly. His expression is often equivocal and 
abrupt. His mode of thinking is abstract and refined, and his 
affectation of system is so great that he multiplies divisions and 



188 THE WOEKS OF ARISTOTLE. 

subdivisions without end. He exhausts the patience, and puzzles 
the attention of the most partial and the most intelligent of his 
readers. Of all his numerous treatises, however, his logic is per- 
haps the most obscure, owing partly to the intricate nature of the 
topics it treats, but chiefly to the exceedingly involved manner in 
which he has discussed them. The obscurity and the ingenuity of 
the works of Aristotle contributed, perhaps, to establish his au- 
thority during the darkness of the middle ages. The admiration of 
ignorant men is often the surest support of their attachment; and 
the best method of attaining that admiration, is to astonish them 
with the discussion of mysteries which they do not understand. 
"Whether we shall allow this theory to be satisfactory or not, the 
fact is certain, that no doctrines of any other philosopher ever ac- 
quired such absolute dominion over the minds of men. 

The works of the Stagirite, by a series of events a little singular, 
remained in a great measure unknown for many years after his 
death. He had left them to Theophrastus, who succeeded him in 
the peripatetic school. Theophrastus transmitted them to Is'eleus, 
his heir, who, after selling a copy of them to Ptolemy Philadelphus, 
king of Egypt, conveyed them to Scepsis, a city of Troas, his native 
country, ^vhere they were deposited in a vault, for fear, it seems, 
they should fall into the hands of the king of .Pergamus, to whom 
that country belonged, and who, it is probable, wished to appro- 
priate them at a price much below their value. 

In this vault they remained near a hundred and thirty years, till 
they were rendered almost illegible by dampness and vermin. 
They were, however, rescued from destruction, and w^ere sold, or 
conveyed to Apellicon, a peripatetic philosopher of Athens, who 
caused them to be transcribed and deposited in his library. There 
they remained till Sylla, at the head of a Roman army, in the 
Mythridatic war, conquered Athens, when he got possession of the 
library of Apellicon, and transmitted it to Eome. Tyrannion, a 
Greek grammarian, an acquaintance of Cicero and Atticus, Avho 
resided at Rome, obtained a copy of them by the good oiEces of 
the library-keeper of Sylla. This critic was at much pains to get 
them transcribed and corrected, and from his cop}'', chiefly, the 
Romans seem to have received their knoAvledge of the peripatetic 
philosophy. 

Prom the copy of the works of Aristotle purchased by the king 
of Egypt, the Arabians probably first derived their acquaintance 
with him ; but the knowledge of his works in Italy appears to have 



THE SCHOOLMEN. ^ 189 

been extinguished by the inundations of German barbarians, wlio 
subverted the Eoman dominion in the fifth century. It is at least 
certain, that no part of his works was much read or admired in 
Europe till the middle of the eleventh century, and that the knowl- 
edge of them then acquired was chiefly obtained from the Arabians. 
The logic of Aristotle, in particular, was formed for cavilling and 
disputation ; and it soon gained applause and authority, when the 
schoolmen^ the most subtle and disputatious order of men the world 
ever saw, began to attract the notice of society. 

Lanfranc, Archbishop of Canterbury, is commonly reputed the 
father of this order, and he was the first who drew the attention of 
the public to the works of the Stagirite. All learned men of Eu- 
rope soon became logicians and Aristotelians. Schools were erect- 
ed, colleges were endowed, literary degrees were conferred. In 
many cathedrals, and in most monasteries, academical institutions 
were established; and the whole knowledge then in vogue was to 
form syllogisms with readiness and address, to perplex, confound, 
and conquer an adversary. Eormal and public disputations were 
frequently held among the members of these societies, and society 
sometimes challenged society to wage keen syllogistic war against 
one another. Logical champions travelled about, like knights- 
errant, in quest of literary adventures, and entered the lists with 
whatever combatant would venture to take up their gauntlet of 
defiance. Victory crowned a disputant with the highest applause, 
and commonly procured him some appellation significant of the 
eminence of his syllogistic powers, such as Doctor Profundus, 
Sabtilis, Irrefragabilis. I^ever was the zeal of men so great for the 
cultivation of useful knowledge, as was the ambition of the school- 
men to become adepts in the art of disputation, and to silence an 
antagonist whom they expected not to convince. 

In such an age, and with such men, the logic of Aris- 
totle could not fail to be received with avidity. His 
authority became supreme and indisputable. It was 
the most insufferable impudence to controvert his opin- 
ions, or even to insinuate suspicion of error. The sacred 
writings claimed not greater reverence than the v\^orks 
of this philosopher, and his name was little less respect- 
ed than that of Jesus Christ. He w^as denominated 
divine; large treatises were written to prove the sal- 



190 * INFLUENCE OF ARISTOTLE. 

vation of his sonl ; he was considered as the best guar- 
dian of the Christian faith ; and, in several churches in 
Germany, his morals were read to the people in phice 
of the gospels. Through the whole ahnost of the scho- 
lastic period, which continued above five hundred 
years, from the middle of the eleventh century to the 
middle of the sixteenth, did the authority of Aristotle 
remain uncontrollable over the minds of men, and did 
eminence in the syllogistic art procure the greatest 
fame, and the highest honors. 

But the influence of the opinions of Aristotle was 
not confined to the schools of disputation ; the civil 
power sometimes supported their authority ; and men 
of njore erudition, and of more polished times than the 
schoolmen, testified their approbation in terms of the 
strongest applaiise. An era so late as the end of the 
sixteenth century, supplies a remarkable incident to il- 
lustrate this observation. 

Petrus Ramus, a lecturer in the college of !N"avarre, published a 
thesis to obtain the degree of Master of Arts, in which he ventured 
to controvert some of the tenets, and to censure the logic of this 
philosopher. The affair quickly made a great noise. France Avas 
alarmed, and the University of Paris took the matter under their 
cognizance. They resented so highly the conduct of Ramus, that 
they v^onld not be content with academical censures. They first 
prosecuted him before the parliament of Paris, that some civil pun- 
ishment might be inflicted suitable to the enormity of the heresy of 
which he had been guilty, and which, they maintained, sapped the 
foundations of religion. Suspicious, however, that the parliament 
might not canvass the matter with the same zeal and partiality 
which animated themselves, they next employed every intrigue to 
remove the discussion from the parliament to the king and council. 

Francis the First entered fully into the views of the university. 
He appointed judges to try the merit of the dispute; he approved 
their decision, and he published a royal mandate enjoining the ob- 
servation of it. The sentence is a curious literary monument, and 
marks the high ascendency which the writings of Aristotle still 



SYLLOGISM DEFINED AND EXPLAINED. 191 

preserved over the minds of their readers. It declared Eamna 
guilty of rashness, impudence, arrogance, and ignorance ; that his 
thesis was a malicious attack on the logic of Aristotle, which all 
the world admired, and which he did not understand; that tlie 
publication of it should be suppressed for the peace of society and 
the interest of truth ; and that no person whatever should tran- 
scribe, print, disperse, or read it, under pain of the sverest punish- 
ment. 

The pwjpose of the logic of Aristotle^ and of the 
numerous writers on the same subject who have ap- 
j)eared since his time, is to teach us to reason by syllo- 
gism. What, then, is this wonderful syllogism with 
which mankind have been so long and so deeply fas- 
cinated, and which they deemed the handmaid of truth 
and the bulwark of religion % Is there any charm in 
the name ? Will it make us mechanical reasoners, 
without the necessity of using our faculties ? Can it 
show any other channel to truth and knowledge, than 
that which all men in earnest employ, and which con- 
sists in the comparison of our ideas, in order to discover 
their agreement or disagreement ? To answer these 
questions in a satisfactory manner, I must explain the 
manner of its formation, and unfold the ingredients of 
which it consists. 

A syllogisTYi^ is an argument, or a step of an argu- 



[* When the state of our knowledge does not warrant ns in judging 
at once whether two conceptions agree or differ, we seek for some other 
judgment or judgments that contain the grounds for our coming to a de- 
cision. This is called reasoning, which may be defined "the process of 
deriving one judgment from another." The technical name for that one 
single step of the process, of which the longest chains of reasoning are but 
the repetition, is syllogism (or cotnputation), a word which has acquired 
its present sense from the resemblance between computation proper, i. e., 
gathering the result of other judgments that we call reasoning. A syllo- 
gism has been defined, " A. sentence or thouglit in which, from some- 
thing laid down and admitted, something distinct from what we have laid 
down, follows of necessity." The form or essence of a syllogism, therefore, 
consists, not in the truth of the judgments laid down, or of that which, la 



192 QUANTITY AND QUALITY OF PROPOSITIONS. 

ment, containing three propositions, tlie first called the 
■m,ajor^ the second the minor^ and the third the conclu- 
sion. For example, 

All animals are mortal ; 
Man is an animal ; 
Therefore man is miortal. 

Each proposition possesses quantity and quality. By 
quantity is meant, that it is universal or particular / 
by quality, that it is an affirmative or negative. A 
universal proposition^^ as was formerl}^ explained, in- 
cludes a whole genus, or a whole species, and affirms 
or denies something of them. The major proposition 
of the syllogism now adduced is an example. " All 
animals are mortal," is a miniver sal affirmative propo- 
sition. Mortality is affirmed of the whole genus of ani- 



arrived at, but in the production of a new and distinct judgment, not a 
mere repetition of the antecedents, the truth of which cannot be denied 
without impugning those we have already accepted for true. — Thomson.'] 

[* Universal judgjnents distribute, i. e., introduce the whole of their sub- 
ject. In " All the fixed stars twinkle'' and " No man is wise at all times," 
it is obvious that we are speaking of the whole of the fixed stars, and of 
men, respectively ; and therefore each term is distributed. 

Negative judgments distribute the predicate. If " No minerals are nutri- 
tious for animals" is asserted, it means that nothing which is nutritious 
for animals can have the properties of minerals ; and so the term " Nutri- 
tious for animals" is distributed ; and if we suppose that only 50?n^ nutritious 
things are asserted not to agree with minerals, it would follow that some 
other nutritious tilings might agree with, i. e., might be minerals, so that 
we might say at the same time — " No minerals are nutritious for animals," 
and " Some minerals are nutritious for animals ;" whereas we know that 
we meant by the former judgment to exclude the possibility of our receiv- 
ing the latter. If the predicate of a negative is not distributed, it can 
have no real negative power ; for if the subject is only excluded from one 
part of the predicate, it may be included in some other part. 

The word all, in its proper logical sense, means "each and every;" but 
it stands sometimes for " All taken together" — " All these claims upon my 
time overpower me." Hence may arise an ambiguity ; instead of the all 
in its logical use, we may put every ; but to exercise the same liberty with, 
the other sense of it would be absurd. The example given could not 
meau " Every single claim upon my time overpowers me." — Thomson,} 



THE FOUR SORTS OF PROPOSITIONS. 193 

mals. " 'No animal can liv^e without food," is a uni- 
verscd negative proposition. A particular proposition 
includes only a part of a genus, or of a species, and 
affirms or denies something of it. Accordingly, " Some* 
animals are long lived," is a particular affirmative 
proposition. "Some animals are not endowed with 
reason," is a particular negative proposition. Hence 
it appears that/bwT* sorts of propositions only can enter 
a syllogism. They must be either universal affirmatives, 
or universal negatives ; particular affirmatives, or par- 
ticular negatives. These four sorts of propositions, for 
the convenience of distinguishing them, are denomina- 
ted by the four following vowels, a, 6, ^, o. A, signifies 
universal affirmative ; 6, universal negative ; % particu- 
lar affirmative ; and o, particular negative. To assist 
the memory, these vowels and their properties are 
formed into the two following monkish verses : 

" Asserit e negat a, sed iiniversaliter ambse. 
Asserit i negat o, sed particulariter ambo." 

Although a syllogism consists of three propositions, 
it contains only three ideas, which are called terms^ 
each of which is twice used, to make up the projDosi- 
tions. One of these ideas, which is always the predi- 
cate of the conclusion, is called the major term / an- 
other the minor term^ which is always the subject of 
the conclusion ; and the third, the uniddle term. The 
reasoning of the syllogism lies in pointing out the 
agreement or disagreement of the major and minor 



[* The word some is the cause of confusion in its logical use. In what 
sense is the " some" of a particular proposition to be understood? Does 
it mean, " Some, we know not how many," or, " A certain number which 
we may have in our thoughts ?" Tlie word appears to be employed in the 
two senses, of " some or other" and " some certain," in common language ; 
and it becomes a question in which sense it is to be regarded in logic. — 
Thomson^ 

9 



194 MAJOK, MINOR, AMD MmDLE TERMS. 

terms, by comparing them with the middle term. The 
middle term never appears in the conclusion, or third 
proposition ; it is compared successively with the major 
and minor terms in the first two propositions, or premi- 
ses, as they are sometimes called. It is twice used in 
the premises ; it may be either the predicate of the ma- 
jor premise, and the subject of the minor ; or, it may 
be the subject of the major premise, and predicate of 
the minor. In like manner the major and minor terms 
stand once in each premise, and they are both used in 
the conclusion. 

For example, in the syllogism formerly quoted, the minor term is 
"man," the major term is ''mortal," and the middle term is "ani- 
mal." In the first premise, "All animals are mortal," the middle 
term, "animal," is compared with the major term, "mortal." 
" Animal" is the subject ; " mortal" is the predicate ; and it is aflSrm- 
ed or predicated of all animals, that they are mortal. In the sec- 
ond premise, "Man is an animal," "man," the minor term, is com- 
pared with "animal," the middle term; and it is affirmed, or 
predicated of man, that he is an animal. The middle terra, "ani- 
mal," is the subject of the former premise, and the predicate of 
the latter. In the conclusion, " Man is mortal," the minor term, 
" man," is inferred to agree with -the major term, "mortal," be- 
cause, in the premises, they were both found to agree with the 
same middle term, " animal." 

We have now advanced a considerable way in the 
exj)lanation of the nature of a syllogism. In order to 
complete the illustration of all those which are denomi- 
nated regular, or categorical syllogisms, it will be ne- 
cessary only to unfold the meaning of mode and figure. 
Figure relates to the position of the middle term; 
TYiode^ to the quantity and quality of the propositions 
of yjhich the syllogism consists. 

The middle term may be the subject of the major premise, and 
the predicate of the minor, when the syllogism is of the first figure ; 
or, it may be the predicate of both premises, which makes a syllo- 



MODE AND FIGITRE. 195 

gism of the second figure"; or, it may be the subject of both premi- 
ses, when the syllogism will be of the third figure ; or, it may be 
the predicate of the major premise, and the subject of the minor, 
when the syllogism will be of the fourth figure. As the middle 
term never appears in the conclusion, and. must appear twice in 
the premises, it will appear that these four are all the positions of 
which it is susceptible ; and consequently that the number of fig- 
ures must also be four. I should add examples of each figure, but 
I rather choose to defer them till I have explained the meaning of 
mode, when the same examples will serve to illustrate both figures 
and modes. 

I have already remarked, that all syllogisms are com- 
posed of four sorts of propositions : universal affirma- 
tives, or universal negatives ; particular affirmatives, or 
particular negatives ; and that these propositions are 
discriminated by the vowels a, ^, *, o. The onode of a 
syllogism is determined hy the species of the propositions 
of which it is composed. 

They may be three universal aflSmiatives marked by three a's, or 
three universal negatives marked by three e's, or three particular 
affirmatives marked by three -i's, or three particular negatives 
marked by three o's ; or, they may be two universal aflfirmatives, 
and one universal negative, marked by two «'s and one e ; or two 
universal affirmatives, and one particular affirmative, marked by 
two a's and one i ; or two universal affirmatives, and one particu- 
lar negative, marked by two a's and one o. Each of these combina- 
tions makes a mode ; and there may be as many modes in each 
figure as there are possible combinations of the four vowels. It is 
found, by computation, that the number of possible combinations 
is no fewer than sixty-four for each figure, so that all the four fig- 
ures will furnish two hundred and fifty-six modes. 

But of these possible modes, a few only form legiti- 
mate syllogisms. The first figure has no more than 
four conclusive onodes i one consisting of three univer- 
sal propositions, denoted by three (X-'s, to which has been 
given, by the schoolmen, the name of Barlara^ because 
it contains the vowel a three times. A second^ consist- 



t96 FIRST AND SECOND FIGURES. 

ing of a universal negative major' proposition, a nni- 
versal affirmative minor proposition, and a universal 
negative conclusion, denoted by the vowels e^ a^ e^ to 
which has been given the name of Celarent^ because 
the vowels of this mode form the vowels of that word. 
A third^ containing a universal affirmative major propo- 
sition, a particular affirmative minor proposition, and a 
particular affirmative conclusion, denoted by the letters 
a^ % i^ out of which is formed the word Darii^ for the 
name of this mode. A fourth^ consisting of a universal 
negative major premise, and a particular affirmative 
minor premise, and a particular negative conclusion, 
marked by the vowels ^, ^, <?, of which has been formed 
the word Ferio^ for the name of the last mode. 

In the second figure are found also four conclusive 
modes ; and the quantity and qualitj^ of their propor- 
tions will be readily comprehended from their names, 
in w^iich, as in the preceding figure, the vowels only 
are significant. Gesare is the name of the first mode ; 
Camestres^ of the second ; Festino^ of the third ; Baroco^ 
of the fourth. The third figure has six modes ^ denoted 
by the hard words, Darapti^ Felajpton^ Disamis^ Da- 
tisi^ Bocardo^ Ferison. Hence it appears that all the 
legitimate modes of the first three figures are no more 
than fourteen. The names of these modes and figures 
were, to aid the memory, formed by the schoolmen into 
the following barbarous hexameters : 

"Barbara, Celarent, Darii, Ferio, dato primce; 
Cesare, Cainestres, Festino, Baroco, secundse; 
Tertia grande sonans recital Darapti, Felapton ; 
Adjangens Di?amis, Datisi, Bocardo, Ferisou." 

Aristotle has not treated separately of the modes of 
the fourth figure, because he found they could be re- 
duced to those of the former figures. I shall now ofi'er 
some examples to illustrate the theories which I have 



EXAMPLES OF SYLLOGISM. 197 

endeavored to explain. The following is a syllogism of 
the first figure^ and of the mode Barlara: 

All bad men are miserable ; 
All tyrants are bad men ; 
Therefore, all tyrants are miserable. 

The major term is " miserable," the minor term is " tyrants," and 
the middle term is " bad men." The middle term is the subject of 
the major premise, " all bad men are miserable," and the predicate 
of the minor premise, " all tyrants are bad men." The syllogism is 
therefore of the first figure, wl)ich requires these positions of the 
middle term. The propositions are all universal affirmatives ; con- 
sequently, the mode is Barhara. 

The next shall be an example of the second figm-e, 
and of the mode Cesar e. 

ISTo deceitful man merits confidence ; 
All honest men merit confidence : 



"Deceitful," is the major term; " honest man," is the minor term; 
and ''merits confidence," is the middle terra. The middle term is 
the predicate of both the premises, "no deceitful man merits confi- 
dence," " all honest men merit confidence," which are the situa- 
tions of the middle term required by the second figure. The first 
premise is universal negative, marked by the letter e, " no deceitful 
man merits confidence;" the second universal afiirmative marked 
by the letter a, "all honest men merit conHdence;" the conclusion 
universal negative, marked again by the letter <?, "no honest man 
is deceitful." These letters constitute the mode Cesar e. 

The subsequent syllogism is of the third figure, and 
of the mode Dara^ti. It is one of Keckerman's ex- 
amples : 

All good men are happy ; 

All good men hate the devil ; 

Therefore, some men who hate the devil are happy. 

The major term is, " happy ;" the minor term is, "hate the devil ;" 
and the middle term is, " good men." The middle term is the sub- 



198 MODES OF THE FIRST AND SECOND FIGURES. 

ject of both premises, " all good men are happy," " all good men 
hate the devil," which constitutes a syllogism of the third figure. 
The major premise, "all good men are happy," is a universal affir- 
mative; the minor premise, "all good men hate the devil," is the 
same ; the conclusion, " some men who hate the devil are happy," 
is a particular affirmative. The two premises are noted by the two 
a's, the conclusion by i, and these letters form the mode Darapti. 

I have now produced an example of a mode of each 
figure. It would be tedious to exemplify all the 
modes ;^ but to prevent suspicion of unfair procedure, 

[* For the sake of gratifying curiosity, the editor subjoins the following 
examples of all the modes, selected from a London work : 

The Jlrst Jig lire cont-d'ins/our moods, or modes, whose names are Barbara^ 
Celarent, Darii, and Ferio, of which the following are giveu as examples : 

Bak- Every wicked man is miserable ; 

Ba- All tyrants are wicked men ; 

Ka. Therefore, all tyrants are miserable. 

Ce- They who neglect their duty are not wise; 
La- . Idle boys neglect their duty ; 
Kent. Therefore, idle boys are not wise. 

Da- They who please God are happy ; 

Ei- Some poor men please God ; 

I. Therefore, some poor men are happy 

Fe- Disobedient children are not blessings ; 

Ei- Some children are disobedient ; 

0. Therefore, some children are not blessings. 

There are four modes also in the second figure^ whose names are Cesare, 
Oimestres, Festino, and JBaroco, examples of which are here subjoined : 

C-E- Ko liar is fit to be believed ; 

Sa- Every good Christian is fit to be believed; 

Ee. Therefore, no good Christian is a liar. 

Ca- All pious men deserve esteem; 

Mes- No robbers deserve esteem ; 

Tees, Therefore, no robbers are pious men. 

Fe- No sin is excusable ; 

Sti- Some faults are excusable ; 

No. Therefore, some faults are not sins. 

Ba- Every part of religion is rational ; 

Ko- Some doctrines are not rational ; 

Co. Therefore, some doctrines are no part of religion. 



MODES OF THE THIRD FIGUKE. 199 

I shall add a few instances promiscuously, from the 
different figures and modes, in order to illustrate further 
the nature of this famous instrument of reasoning, and 
to lay a foundation for the remarks I have to offer upon 
it. The following syllogism is of the mode Bocardo^ 
which belongs to the third figure. The name shows 
that the first premise, c, must be a particular negative ; 
the second premise, a^ a universal affirmative ; and the 
conclusion, <?, a particular negative. The third figure 
requires the middle term to be the subject of both 
premises ; all these requisites are thus fulfilled. 

Some good men are not ricli ; 

All good men are happy ; 

Therefore, some happy men are not rich men. 



The modes in the third figure are six, named as follows : Darapti^ Felap- 
toTij Disamis, Datisi, Bocardo, Ferison, and these are examples : 

Da- All good Christians shall be saved ; 

Kap- All good Christians have sinned ; 

Ti. Therefore, some who have sinned shall be saved. 

Fe- No hypocrites are pleasing to God ; 
Lap- All hypocrites appear to be religious ; 
Ton. Therefore, some who appear to be religious are not 
pleasing to God. 

Dx- Some men are honorable : 
Sa- All men have their imperfections ; 
Mis. Therefore, some who have imperfections are honor- 
able. 

Da- All virtuous men are happy ; 
Ti- Some virtuous men are beggars ; 
Si. Therefore, some beggars are happy. 

Bo' Some wars are not to be avoided ; 

Car- All wars produce bloodshed ; 

Do. Therefore, some bloodshed is not to be avoided. 

Fe- No afflictions are pleasant ; 
Ei- Some afflictions are good for us ; 
Son. Therefore, some things that are good for us are not 
pleasant.] 



200 EXAMPLES OF SYLLOGISM. 

The next example is of Camestres^ a mode of the sec- 
ond figure. It is another of Keckerman's : 

All men are animals ; 
Fo stone is an animal ; 
Therefore, no stone is a man. 

" Animal," is the middle term, and is the predicate of 
both premises, as required by the second figm'e. The 
first premise is «, universal affirmative ; the second, e^ 
universal negative; the conclusion, ^, also universal 
negative. Hence the mode Camestres. 

The mode Darii shall furnish another example : 

Every tbing base sbould be avoided ; 

Some pleasures are base ; 

Therefore, some pleasures shonld be avoided. 

" Avoided," is the major term ; " pleasures," the minor 
term ; " base," the middle term. Base, is the subject 
of the major premise, and the predicate of the minor, 
which refers the syllogism to the first figure. The first 
premise, marked «, is universal affirmative ; the second 
premise and the conclusion are marked i^ i^ particular 
affirmatives ; hence the mode Darii. 

In each figure there are singular syllogisms, or syllo- 
gisms relative to individuals, which cannot be reduced 
to any of the modes. They are allowed, however, to be 
legitimate syllogisms, and they are constructed on the 
same principle with the rest. The only diflPerence is, 
that all the established modes refer to genus and spe- 
cies ; these refer to species and individual. I shall pre- 
sent some instances from Keckerman : 

Every traitor deserves death ; 

Judas was a traitor ; 

Therefore, Judas deserved death. 

This syllogism is of the first figure, where the middle 
term, " traitor," is the subject of the major premise, and 



DR. eeid's analysis. 201 

the predicate of the minor premise. The following is a 
particular example of the second figure : 

Socrates was an ugly man ; 
Plato was not an ugly man; 
Therefore, Plato was not Socrates. 

The middle term, "ugly," is the predicate of both pre- 
mises. The same logician supplies a particular example 
of the third figure : 

Judas did not obtain salvation; 

Judas was an apostle ; 

Therefore, every apostle did not obtain salvation. 

" Judas," is the middle term, and the subject of bpth 
premises, according to the requisitions of the third figure.* 

[* Dr. Thomas Reid presents the following analysis of the tliree syllo- 
gistic figures explained in the preceding lecture. Pie remarks: 

The compass of the syllogistic system as an en.yine of science, may be 
discerned by a compendious and general view of the conclu.^ion drawn, and 
the argument used to prove it, in each of the three figures. 

In the first figure, the conclusion affirms or denies something of a cer- 
tain species or individual ; and the argument to prove this conclusion is, 
that the same thing may be affirmed or denied of the whole genus to 
■which that species or individual belongs. 

In the second figure, the conclusion is, that some species or individual 
does not belong to such a genus ; and the argument is, that some attribute 
common to the whole genus does not belong to that species or individual. 

In the third figure, the conclusion is, that such an attribute belongs to 
part of a genus ; and the argument is, that the attribute in question belongs 
to a species or individual wdiich is part of that genus. 

I apprehend that, in this short view, every conclusion that falls within 
the compass of the three figures, as well as the means of proof, is compre- 
hended. The rules of all the figures might be easily deduced from it ; and 
it appears that there is only one principle of reasoning in all the three ; so 
that it is not strange that a syllogism of one figure should be reduced to one 
of another figure. 

The geaeral principle in which the whole terminates, and of which every 
categorical syllogism is only a particular application, is this, that iclmt is 
affirmed or denied of the whole genas, may le affirmed or denied of every spec' es 
and. individual belonging to it. This is a principle of undoubted certainty 
indeed, but of no great depth. Aristotle and all the logicians assume it as 
an axiom or first principle from which the syllogistic system takes its depart- 
ure; and after a tedious voyage, and great expense of demonstrations, it 
lands at last in this principle as its ultimate conclusion. curas hominum! 
quantum est in rebus inane I — Beidh Works, vol. i. p. 108.] 

9'-» 



203 KNTHTMEME. 



LECTURE XL 

SYLLOGISM ITS MERIT AS A MODE OF REASONING. 

Besides regular, categorical, or pure sjllogisms, there 
are others called irregular^ because they cannot be re- 
duced to the rules of mode and figure. I shall briefly 
explain the nature of these, more in conformity with 
general practice, than because they are of much im- 
portance. 

Enthymeme is the first species I shall mention. It 
takes place when one of the propositions which consti- 
tute the premises is omitted,"^ and the conclusion is 
drawn from the other premise, as if the syllogism were 
regular and complete. The following is an example. 
If I say, either, 



Or, 



"Whatever thinks is a spiritual substance, 
Therefore, the mind of man is a spiritual substance ; 

The mind thinks, 

Therefore, the mind is a spiritual substance ; 



I omit the minor proposition in the former case, and in- 
fer the conclusion from the major. I omit the major 
proposition in the latter case, and infer the same con- 
clusion from the minor. It is supposed in both cases 
that the connection of the conclusion with either pre- 
mise, is so apparent as to render unnecessary the pres- 

[* Gr. 61/, and 0B;/of, mind ; something understood in the mind, and not 
expressed. — Brande. 

" What is an e«.^/!y??ieme/"' quoth Cornelius. " Whv, an enthymeme," 
repHed Crambe, " is when the major is indeed married to the mmor, but 
the marriage kept secret." — Arluthnot and Pope.] 



SORITES. 203 

ence of the other premise. The premise in this case is 
called the antecedent ; and the conclusion, the sequela, 
or the inference.* 

Sorites is another species of irregular syllogism, and 
consists in conjoining a series of propositions in such a 
manner, that the predicate of the preceding proposition 
forms the subject of the succeeding. The following is 
an example : 

The mind is a thinking substance. A thinking substance is a 
spirit. A spirit has no extension. "What has no extension has no 
parts. "What has no parts is indissoluble. What is indissoluble is 
immortal. Therefore, the mind is immortal. 

This species, like the former, is only a train of syllo- 
gisms abridged, into which it may easily be resolved in 
the following manner : 

All thinking substances are spirits ; 
The mind is a thinking substance ; 
Therefore, the mind is a spirit. 

Spirits have no extension ; 
The mind is a spirit ; 
Therefore, it has no extension. ' 

Things having no extension have no parts ; 
The mind has no extension ; 
Therefore, it has no parts. 

[* The arguments used in thinking, speaking, or writing, are never 
drawn out in strict teclinical form, except by practised logicians, desirous 
of exhibiting their art to those who, like themselves, are conversant with 
it. A sentence which contains the materials of a syllogism, not technically 
expressed, has been called an enthymeme. Aristotle understands by this 
a syllogism such as would be used in rhetoric, where the full and orderly 
expression of premises and conclusion would seem labored and artificial. 
And as the omission of one of the premises is a common, perhaps the com- 
monest, feature of enthymemes, logicians have defined them as syllogisms 
with one premise suppressed. But we may also omit the conclusion, or 
invert the order of premises and conclusion ; and unless we extend the 
name enthymeme to these cases, we put a considerable restriction upon its 
original meaning. Let the enthymeme then be defined — an argument in 
the form in tohich it would TUiturally occur in thov^ght or speech. — W. 
Thamson.\ 



204 CONDITIONAL SYLLOGISM. 

Things having no parts are indissoluble ; 
The mind has no parts ; 
Therefore, the mind is indissoluble. 

Things indissoluble are immortal ; 
The mind is indissoluble ; 
Therefore, the mind is immortal. 

Hence it appears, that all tlie intermediate proposi- 
tions between the first and the last of a Sorites may be 
formed into separate syllogisms ; and that it is equiva- 
lent to an argument formed of as many syllogisms as 
the argument contains intermediate propositions. It 
may also be observed, that every idea of the Sorites is 
twice repeated, and that it might be further abridged 
without any detriment to the evidence it communicates. 
Had it stood as follows, the agreement of its ideas 
would have been as clear, and its evidence as satisfac- 
tory, as in any other form. Mind — thinking substance 
— spirit — without extension — without parts — indissolu- 
ble — immortal.'^ 

Irregular syllogisms^ further, are either conditional or 
disjunctive. The subsequent is a conditional syllogism, 
" If the air press down bodies below it, it must be a 
heavy body." The legitimacy of this species of reason- 
ing consists in the inference following necessarily from 
the premise. It has scarcely any logical form. It is an 

[* Three or more premises in which the predicate of each is the subject 
of the next, with a conchision formed from the first subject and last predi- 
cate of the premises, have been called a sorites, or accumulating argument, 
from the Greek word <jij>pbi^ a Jieap. The name is not very appropriate ; 
the German title of chain-argument (kettenschluss) expresses better the na- 
ture of the process in which the mind goes on from link to link in its rea- 
soning, without thinking it necessary to draw out the conclusions as it 
passes. Where the premises are all universal affirmative judgments, not 
the least confusion can arise from thus postponing till the end the realiza- 
tion of the results. But where the premises are judgments of different 
kinds, the reasoning is more difficult to follow, and it may be necessary to 
draw out each syllogism separately, in order to see whether it is in a valid 
mood, and, if otherwise, what is the fault in it. — Thomson.'] 



DISJUNCTIVE SYLLOGISM DILEMMA. 205 

inference from a principle, wliich inference mnst be 
admitted if the principle be granted. 

A disjunctive syllogism is proper and legitimate, 
when the predicate of the premise admits an alternative, 
and when the predicate and alternative involve every 
possible case. If the predicate be obviously false, the 
alternative of course must be true. Example : 

The mind of man is either corporeal or spiritual ; 
It is not corporeal ; therefore, it is spiritual. 

If the predicate and the alternative do not exhaust 
every case that can exist, the conclusion will be illegiti- 
mate. For example : " All neighbors are either friends 
or enemies ; they are not friends ; therefore, they are 
enemies." In this instance, the predicate and the al- 
ternative do not include every case. The greatest part 
of neighbors may be neither friends nor enemies : they 
may be altogether indifferent, and accordingly the con- 
clusion is ridiculous. 

[The Dilemma is a complex argument, partaking both 
of the conditional and disjunctive. It is a syllogism 
with a conditional j^Temise^ in which either the antece- 
dent or consequent is disjunctive. It may prove a neg- 
ative or an affirmative conclusion. 

The word Dilemma means " double proposition," so 
that the whole argument takes its name from the one 
mixed judgment in it. When this is more than double, 
as in, '' If a prisoner is legally discharged, either the 
magistrate mnst refuse to commit, or the grand jury 
ignore the bill, or the conmion jury acquit, or the crown 
exercise the prerogative of pardon," the argument has 
been called a Trilemma, Tetralemma, or Polylemma, 
according to the number of members the judgment may 
have. — Thomson?^ 

I observed, in the last lecture, that of the hundred 



206 RULES FOR SYLLOGISM. 

and ninety-two modes which the three figures contain, 
no more than fourteen are conclusive. I shall now ex- 
plain the means hy which these inconclusive modes are 
set aside. Aristotle has been at great pains to examine 
them separately, and to demonstrate the fallacy of the 
conclusions they infer; but later logicians have con- 
tracted this process by the aid of a few rules, which are 
either self-evident, or result naturally from the construc- 
tion of a syllogism. T]iq first rule is — 

" A syllogism must consist only of three terms." 
This rule excludes all ambiguities in the expression 
which would introduce supernumerary terms. All the 
terms are twice repeated ; and in every repetition the 
same sense should be retained. If the sense be changed 
the syllogism is vitiated ; because the ambiguous word 
will supply as many terms as .it has meanings. The 
subsequent syllogism is, therefore, fallacious and ridic- 
tdous. 

Whatever thinks is immaterial; 

All spirits think ; 

Therefore, spirit of wine is immaterial. 

The double meaning of the word spirit renders the 
conclusion absurd. The syllogism really consists of 
four terms, while apparently it consists only of three. 
The second rule is — 

'' ISTo syllogism can consist entirely of particular or 
negative propositions." 

Particular propositions cannot infer a conclusion, be- 
cause, as I shall afterwards show^, the syllogistic art 
hangs on this principle, " Whatever agrees or disagrees 
with a genus, agrees or disagrees with every- species of 
that genus ;" if, therefore, in any syllogism no genus is 
found ; if different parts only, either of a genus or a 
Bpecies, are compared together, no conclusion can ro- 



BTJLES FOE SYLLOGISM. 207 

suit, because any infereuce from such premises is ille- 
gitimate. Take the following example : 

Some animals are beautiful ; 
Some animals are not beautiful; 

Therefore, some women are beautiful, and some women are not 
beautiful. 

Three negative propositions cannot compose a legiti- 
mate syllogism, because they form three detached as- 
sertions ; and the truth or falsehood of any one of them 
has no dependence on the other two. The subsequent 
example will be an illustration : 

No matter thinks ; 

No spirit is matter ; 

Therefore, no matter thinks, and no spirit is matter. 

Another rule is — 

" The conclusion must be particular, if either of the 
premises be particular ; and negative, if either of the 
premises be negative." 

This is what the logicians mean when they tell us, 
that " Conclusio sequitur partem debiliorem." The 
" pars debilior" is a negative, or a particular premise, 
compared with an affirmative or a universal premise. 
This rule needs little illustration. If either of the 
premises be negative or particular, the conclusion can- 
not be general or affirmative, otherwise it would be 
more extensive than the premises from which it is de- 
duced. The superstructure would project beyond the 
foundation ; a manifest solecism both in philosophy 
and in arts. In the following syllogism the conclusion 
is negative, because the major premise is negative : 

No man is immortal ; 

All kings are men ; 

Therefore, no king is immortal. 



208 , KULES FOE SYLLOGISM. 

In the subsequent syllogism the conclusion is partic- 
ular, because the minor premise is particular : 

All good men are happy ; 
Some men are good ; 
Therefore, some men are happy. 

The last rule is — 

*'The middle term must be taken universally in one 
of the premises." 

When the middle term is taken universally, it refers 
to a genus ; when it is taken particularly, it refers to a 
species. Were it not taken unii^ersally in one of the 
premises, they would not include a genus, and, conse- 
quently, there would be no ratiocination from it to the 
species. The syllogism would consist of particular 
propositions, and I have already shown, that from such 
premises no legitimate inference can result. Take the 
following example : 

Whatever thinks is immaterial ; 

The mind of man thinks ; 

Therefore, the mind of man is immaterial. 

The middle term, " whatever thinks," is taken univer- 
sally, or includes a genus in the major premise. It is 
taken particularly, or refers to the species, ^' mind of 
man," in the minor premise. The application of these 
rules evinces the illegitimacy of the inconclusive modes, 
and establishes the authority of the fourteen conclusive 
ones. 

I have now advanced every view and explication 
which appeared requisite to unfold the nature of that 
wonderful method of reasoning, on which Aristotle, the 
first and best logician, has spent so much of his time 
and labor ; about which all the learned men of Europe 
were employed for many ages ; and from eminence in 
which the highest literary honors were derived ; some- 



MERITS OF THE SYLLOGISM. 209 

times the administration of the most important civil 
offices were conferred. I proceed to discuss its merits 
as an engine of hiowledge. 

That I may do it no injustice in the course of the 
discussion, it may be necessary again to observe, that 
every syllogism must not be considered as containing a 
complete argument, or a train of reasoning, if the argu- 
ment requires more than one intermediate idea. One 
syllogism, on the contrary, contains only one step of a 
train of reasoning ; and in arranging a train of reason- 
ing in the syllogistic form, as many syllogisms must be 
made as there are steps or comparisons in that train. I 
must also observe, that by proceeding in this manner, 
any train of reasoning, in arts, in science, or in business, 
may be converted into syllogisms. 

These remarks may be illustrated by exhibitiDg the first demcn- 
stration of the first book of Euclid in this form. It will be recol- 
lected, that the object of the proposition is to prove, that the tri- 
angle described on the given line A. B, by means of the two circles, 
the semi-diameter of each of which is the hne A B, is equilateral. 
From the properties of the circle, each of the sides of the triangle 
is found equal to the base, and the inference is drawn necessarily, 
that all the sides are equal. This train of reasoning, expressed by 
syllogisms, Avill stand as follows : 

All the semi -diameters of the same cir- 
cle are equal ; 

The lines A B, A C, are semi-diame- 
ters of the same circle ; 

Therefore, these lines are equal. 

All the semi-diameters of the same circle are equal ; 

The lines B A, B 0, are semi-diameters of the same circle ; 

Therefore, these lines are equal. 

Whatever things are equal to the same thing, are equal to one 
another ; 

The hues A C and B are equal to the line A B ; 

Therefore, the three lines A B, A C, B 0, are equal to one an- 
other. 




210 INUTILITY OF THE SYLLOGIS'HC FOBM. 

Triangles, having their sides equal, are called equilateral ; 
The triangle ABC lias all its sides equal ; 
Therefore, it is equilateral. 

Now, the point to be investigated is, Whether the 
syllogistic method of exhibiting this demonstration, or 
any other train of reasoning, is preferable to that adopt- 
ed by Euclid, or to the method which places the suc- 
cessive ideas in the nearest juxtaposition, and expresses 
them in the fewest and plainest words. 

From the example I have given, it will appear that the sj'llogistic 
form is not nearly so concise as that of Euclid; for all the ideas of 
Euclid's demonstration are expressed in one half of the words 
which are requisite to constitute these four syllogisms. Even Eu- 
clid's manner of expression is copious and full ; and the evidence of 
his demcmstration would not perhaps have been impaired, had he 
communicated it as follows. The semi-diameters A B and A C, of 
the one circle, are equal ; the semi-diameters of A B and B C, of 
the other circle, are equal also ; therefore, the triangle is equilateral, 
and described on the given line. 

But, besides being more prolix, the syllogistic meth- 
od adds no light to the evidence by which the ideas of 
the train of reasoning are perceived, Avhich light the 
ideas possess not in their natm-al state of juxtaposition. 
Every syllogism consists of three terms, and the reason- 
er must have discovered the middle term, and observed 
the agreement of it with the extremes, before he can 
form the terms into a syllogism. After the syllogism 
is formed, the mind acquires no satisfaction from the 
contemplation of it, which the terms did not suggest in 
the state of juxtaposition. 

■ Suppose I were to prove that Socrates was content 
with his condition, because he was a wise man ; I 
should have three terms of which a syllogism may be 
formed, and which in their natural order would stand 
thus : Socrates — a wise man — content with his condi- 



INUTILITY OF THE SYLLOGISTIC FOEM. 211 

tion. I affirm, that the agreement between Socrates 
and contentment, is as obvious and satisfactory in the 
simple juxtaposition of the terms, as it is after these 
terms are formed into the following syllogism : 

All wise men are content with their condition ; 

Socrates was a wise man ; 

Therefore, Socrates was content with his condition. 

Further, as the syllogistic form communicates no ad- 
ditional light, so neither does it assist in discovering 
middle terms. The principal operations of any investi- 
gation, are the invention of intermediate ideas, and the 
comparison of them with one another, and with the ex- 
tremes. The invention of middle terms is the chief 
operation ; and excellence in it is the most important 
qualification any inquirer can possess. It seems to de- 
pend on natural sagacity and acuteness, fortified and 
improved by exercise, ^o art can be of any use. 
From syllogism, in particular, no aid can be derived. 
It does not even pretend to give any aid. Its only ob- 
ject is to assist in the second operation, the comparison 
of ideas; and we have seen that the syllogistic exhibi- 
tion is not more perspicuous than the natural one. 

But the most singular phenomenon of syllogism is, 
that the conclusion is ofte7h a self evident proposition^ 
sometimes even trifling and insignificant. The discus- 
sion of this point will unfold the whole mystery and 
merit of the method. In converting a train of ideas 
into the syllogistic form, there must be made as many 
syllogisms as there are steps or comparisons in the 
traiu, and as many as there are ideas in the train, ex- 
cept one. Each idea of the train beginning with the 
second, is the major term of its respective syllogism; 
the other two terms of the same syllogism are, one a 
genus, and the other a species of that genus. The ma- 



212 EXAMPLES OF SYLLOGISM. 

jor term is compared first with the one, and then with 
the other, and must be found either to agree or disagree 
with both. Take, for example, the train of reasoning 
formerly mentioned ; — Human mind — thinking sub- 
stance — immaterial — indissoluble — immortal ; — and 
convert it into syllogisms. 

"Whatever perceives, judges, and reasons, is a thinking sub- 
stance ; 
The human mind perceives, judges, and reasons; 
Therefore, the human i. lind is a thinking substance. 

In this syllogism, the major term, " thinking sub- 
stance," and the second idea of the train, is compared 
wdth the genus, " whatever perceives, judges, and rea- 
sons," in the first premise, and is found to agree with 
it. The same major term is compared again with the 
species, " the human mind," in the conclusion, and is 
found also to agree with it. I^ow, the genus, "what- 
ever perceives, judges, and reasons," the species, "the 
mind of man," and "thinking substance," are all the 
terms of this syllogism. 

Whatever thinks is immaterial ; 

The human mind tliinks ; 

Therefore, the human mind is immaterial. 

"Immaterial," the third idea of the train, and the 
major term of this syllogism, is compared first with the 
genus, " whatever thinks," and next w^ith the species, 
" the human mind," and is found to agree with both. 

Whatever is immaterial is indissoluble ; 
The mind of man is immaterial ; 
Therefore, the mind of man is indissoluble. 

"Indissoluble," the fourth idea of the train, and the 
major term of this syllogism, is compared first with the 
genus, " whatever is immaterial," and next with the 



EXAMPLES OF SYLLOGISM. 213^ 

Species, *' tlie mind of man," and is found to agree 
with both. 

"Whatever is indissoluble is immortal; 
The mind of man is indissoluble ; 
Therefore, the mind of man is immortal. 

"Immortal," the last idea of the train, and the 
major term of this syllogism, is compared first with 
the genns, " whatever is indissoluble," and then with 
the species, " the mind of man," and is found to agree 
with both. 

From these examples it appears, that the major term 
of every syllogism is one of the ideas of the train, be- 
ginning witli the second ; that the minor term of every 
syllogism is the first idea of the train ; and that the 
middle term of every syllogism is a genus of the minor. 
The syllogisms I have formed are all of the first figure ; 
but this circumstance is no objection against the re- 
marks I have to make, because all the other figures and 
modes proceed on the same principle:, namely^ the com- 
parison of the major term first with a genus of the 
7ninor^ and next with the minor as a species ; or 
the syllogisms of the other figures may be reduced 
to those of the first in which these conditions take 
place. 

What, then, is the mystery of this mighty syllogistic 
art, which has so long engaged the attention of learned 
men, and is still accounted by many of that description 
to contain something meritorious, or to be an analysis 
of the art of reasoning? It is no more than this, 
" Whatever agrees with any genus ^ will agree with every 
species of that genus / or whatever disagrees with any 
genus ^ will disagree with e'very species of that genus.-'' 
If this be the principle of the art, can we w^onder at 
the self-evidence of all the conclusions of all its syllo. 



214 THE SYLLOGISTIC ART USELESS. 

gisms, or that it never gratified science or "business 
with the disco very of any useful truth?" 

When we reflect how genus and species are formed, 
it is impossible but that what agrees or disagrees with 
the one, must agree or disagree with the other. What 
is a genus? It is a collection of all the qualities com- 
mon to the species it includes. What agrees, then, 
with the common qualities of any species, must agree 
with the species itself, as far as these qualities extend ; 
and syllogism carries the agreement of the major term, 
with the minor and middle terms, no further than these 
qualities. A¥hat agrees with the genus must agree 
with the species ; it is only an agreement with the same 
thing in different situations; the major term agrees or 
disagrees with perfectly the same qualities, in the ge- 
nus, with which it agrees or disagi^ees in the species. 
Hence it appears, that after finding the agreement of 
the major term with the genus of the minor term, the 
conclusion, which asserts the agreement of the major 
term with the species, or the minor term itself, must 
be self evident. To arrange things into species and 
genera, is extremely convenient for the purposes of 
language, and some of the purposes of philosophy ; but 
to pretend to reason from the one to the other, seems to 
be the quintessence of vanity or folly. 

Examine any demonstration of Euclid, any investiga- 
tion of morals, politics, or affairs, and it will be found 
that no man in earnest reasons from a genus to a spe- 
cies. A mathematical demonstration consists of the 
comparison of quantities of the same species ; figures 
are compared with figures ; angles with angles ; and 
lines with lines. An inquiry concerning justice or 
charity, compares these virtues with the principles of 

[* Mills' Logic, p. 117, may here be consulted with advantage.] 



AN OBJECTION CONSIDERED* 215 

reason, equity, the laws of the community, and the sit- 
uations of persons. A process in tlie arts refers to the 
theory of the art, and to the example of the most repu- 
table and successful practitioners. 

It is of little consequence to maintain that the syllo- 
gistic art sometimes makes its way into the most serious 
business, and that every indictment for a crime, for in- 
stance, is a syllogism ; of w^hich the major premise con- 
tains the description of the crime, and its punishment 
appointed by the law; the minor premise, the applica- 
tion of the law to the case of the criminal, and the 
conclusion, an assertion that the criminal merits the 
punishment appointed by the law. 

That an indictment stands in the form of a 83'llogisni, no donbt 
can exist. The major term is the punishment ; the crime committed 
is the minor term and the species; the description of the crime in 
the lav/ is the middle term and tlie genus. The major term, or the 
punislmient, agrees with the genus, or the law ; and it agrees also, 
perhaps, with the minor term and the species, or the crime of the 
prisoner. But there is not here, strictly speaking, any reasoning. 
A trial is no more than a scrutiny, whether a particular crime is 
included under a general law, or whether the indictment accords 
with truth, when it asserts that the prisoner, in taking away the 
property or the life of his fellow-creature, has committed the crime 
of theft or murder, of which crimes the perpetrators are declared 
by the law to deserve punishment. There is no more reasoning in 
this case than in every apphcation of the principles of science to the 
particular cases they include. 

The assertion, for example, that a particular field consists of a 
certain number of acres, is e,qually a syllogism witli an indictment 
charging a culprit with the commission of a crime punishable by 
law. The number of acres, suppose ten, is the major term ; the 
length and breadth of the field, is the minor term and the species ; 
the number of acres of Avhich all fields of the length and breadth of 
the one under consideration consist, is the middle term and tlie ge- 
nus. The major term, ten acres, agrees with the dimensions of all 
fields of the extent of the one under consideration; it agrees also 
with the dimensions of the one under consideration ; and, therefore, 
it agrees both with the genus and the species of the syllogism. 



216 SYLLOGISM AS AN ENGINE OF CONTEOVERSY. 

But, while I reprobate the syllogistic method, for 
being nugatory and insignificant as an instrument of 
reasoning, I admit its high merit as an engine of 
wrangling and controversy. It was the happiest con- 
trivance that could have been devised for conducting 
those public disputations and trials of skill which for 
ages prevailed in Europe, and in which the discovery 
of truth was no part of the ambition of the combatants. 
The most ready and acute framer of syllogisms was sure 
to retire ti'iumphant. The grand contest was not 
whether the syllogism contained any useful truth. The 
object of one party was to maintain its legitimacy ; of 
the other, to controvert or deny one of its propositions. 
Wrangling thus became a science ; and the mind of 
man, apparently enthusiastic in the discovery of truth 
and knowledge, never wandered further from their 
paths. 

[Dr. George Campbell (in his Philosophy of Ehetoric, 
p. 86), observes : 

In the ordinary application of the syllogistic art to 
matters with which we can be made acquainted only 
by experience, it can be of little or no utility. So far 
from leading the mind, agreeably to the design of all 
argument and investigation, from things known to things 
unknown, and by things evident to things obscure, its 
usual progress is, on the contrary, from things less 
known to things better known, and by things obscure 
to things evident. When, in the way of induction, the 
mind proceeds from individual instances to the discov- 
ery of such truths as regard a species, and from these, 
again, to such as comprehend a genus, we may say, 
with reason, that as we advance, there may be in every 
succeeding step, and commonly is, less certainty than 
in the preceding ; but in no instance whatever can there 
be more. 



DE. Campbell's eemaeks, 217 

ISTow tlie ciistomaiy procedure in the syllogistic sci- 
ence, is from general to special, and conseqnently from 
less to more obvious. In scientific reasoning the case 
is very different, as the axioms or universal truths from 
which the mathematician argues, are so far from being 
the slow result of induction and experience, that they 
are self-evident. They are no sooner apprehended than 
they are necessarily assented to. 

But to illustrate the matter by an example, take the 
following specimen in Bm-hara^ the first mode of the 
first figure : 

All animals feel ; 

All horses are animals ; 

Therefore, all horses feel. 

It is impossible that an}^ reasonable man who really 
doubts whether a horse has feeling, or is a mere au- 
tomaton, should be convinced by this argument; for, 
supposing he uses the names liorse and animal as stand- 
ing in the same relation of species and genus wiiich they 
bear in the common acceptation of. the words, the ar- 
gument you employ is, in effect, but an affirmation of 
the point which he denies, couched in such terms as 
include a multitude of other similar afiirmations, which, 
whether true or false, are nothing to the purpose. Thus 
all animals feel \^ only a compendious expression for 
all horses feel^ all dogs feel^ all eagles feel^ and so 
through the whole animal creation. I affirm, besides, 
that the procedure here is from things less known to 
things better known. It is possible that one may be- 
lieve the conclusion who denies the major : but the re- 
verse is not possible ; for, to express myself in the lan- 
guage of the art, that may be predicated of the species 
which is not predicable of the genus, but that can never 
be predicated of the genus which is not predicable of 
the species. If one, therefore, were under such an error 

10 



218 brown's analysis of the scholastic LOi*iv. 

in regard to the brutes, true logic, which is always co- 
incident with good sense, wonld lead our reflections to 
the indications of perception and feeling given by those 
animals, and the remarkable conformity which in this 
respect, and in respect of their bodily organs, they beai 
to our own species.] 



CONCLUDING CHAPTER. 

DR. THOMAS BROWN's ANALYSIS OF THE SCHOLASTIC LGQIC. 

[The retardation of the jprogress of reasoning^ is one 
circumstance which distinguishes the syllogism '^ but 
the absurdity, which is imj)lied in the very theory of it, 
distinguishes it still more. It constantly assumes, as 
the first stage of that reasoning by which we are to ar- 
rive at a particular truth, our previous knowledge of 
that particular truth. The major is the very conclusion 
itself under another form, and its truth is not more felt 
than that which it professes to develop. Thus, to take 
one of the trifling examples which, in books of logic, 
are usually given, with a most appropriate selection, to 
illustrate this worse than trifling art — ^when, in order to 
prove that " John is a sinner," I do not adduce any par- 
ticular sin of which he has been guilty, but draw up 
my accusation more irresistibly by the major of a syllo- 
gism — "All men are sinners;" "John is a man;" 
"therefore, John is a sinner." If I really attached 
any meaning to my major proposition, " all men are 
sinners," I must at that very moment have felt as com- 
pletely that John was a sinner, as after I had per- 
sued him technically through the minor and conclusion. 

The great error of tlie theory of the syllogism con- 



brown's analysis of the scholastic logic. 219 

sisted in supposing that becanse all our knowledge may 
be technically reduced, in some measure, to general 
maxims, these maxims have naturally a prior and par- 
amount existence in our thoughts, and give rise to those 
very reasonings which, on the contrary, give rise to 
them. 

It is not on account of our previous assent to the 
maxim, " a whole is greater than a part," that we be- 
lieve any particular whole to be greater than any part 
of it ; but we fe©l this truth in every particular case by 
its own intuitive evidence, and the axiom only ex- 
presses briefly our various feelings of this kind without 
giving occasion to them. The general axiom, then, is 
in every c2i^Q posterior to the separate feelings of which 
it is only the brief exj^ression, or, at least, without 
which, as prior to our verbal statement of the axiom, 
the axiom itself never could have formed a part of our 
system of knowledge. The syllogism, therefore, which 
proceeds from the axiom to the demonstration of par- 
ticulars, reverses completely the order of reasoning, and 
begins with the conclusion, in order to teach us how we 
may arrive at it. 

The natural process of reasoning by two propositions 
instead of the three which the syllogism would force us 
to use, has been allowed indeed by logicians to have a 
place in their system ; because, with all their fondness 
for their own technical modes, they had not sufficient 
hardihood to deny, that it is at least possible for us to 
reason sometimes^ as in truth v/e always reason. Their 
only resource, therefore, was to reduce this natural pro- 
cess under their own artificial method, and to give it a 
name which might imply the necessity of this reduc- 
tion, before the reasoning itself could be worthy of that 
honorable title. They supposed, accordingly, the propo- 
sition which was technically wanting to be understood 



220 bkown's analysis of the scholastic logic. 

in the mind of the thinker or hearer, and termed the 
reasoning, therefore, an enthymeme. It was, they said, 
a truncated or imperfect syllogism. They would have 
expressed themselves more accurately if they had de- 
scribed their own syllogism, as, in relation to the nat- 
ural analytic process of our thought, a cumbrous and 
overloaded enthymeme. 

A very little attention to the nature of the difierent 
propositions of the syllogism, will be sufficient to show 
that the same fundamental error which renders it use- 
less for discovering truth, renders it equally useless for 
the communication of it to others ; and that as our in- 
ternal reasoning is only a series of enthymemes, it is 
only by such a series of enthymemes as that by which 
truth unfolds itself to our own minds, that it can be suc- 
cessfully unfolded to the minds of others. In the at- 
tempt to communicate knowledge by the technical forms 
of reasoning, the major jDroposition, as already stated, 
must of course have been supposed to be understood 
and admitted when stated, since, if not admitted by the 
hearer or reader, as soon as stated, it would itself stand 
in need of proof; and if it was so understood and ad- 
mitted, of what use would the remaining propositions 
of the syllogism be, since they could communicate no 
truth that was not communicated and felt before ? 

The whole question relates to the feeling of the truth 
of the major proposition ; for if it be true, and felt to be 
true, all the rest is already allowed ; and yet this most 
important of all propositions, which, if the conclusion 
be of a kind that demands proof, must itself demand 
proof still more, is the very proposition which is most 
preposterously submitted to us in the first place for our 
assent, without any proof whatever, — the honor of a 
proof being reserved only for a proposition which, if the 
major require no proof, must be itself too clear to stand 



in need of it. Hence, the syllogism cannot fail to train 
the mind which receives instructions in this way, to two 
of the most dangerous, practical errors, — the errors of 
admitting without proof only what requires proof, and 
of doubting, that is to say, of requiring proof, only of 
what is evident. 

The triumph of the syllogistic art, it must be con- 
fessed, however, is not as an art of acquiring or commu- 
nicating truth, but as an art of disputation^ — as the 
great art of j)roving any thing by any thing, qicidlihet 
per quodlihet prolandi. And, if it be a merit to dis- 
pute long and equally well on subjects known and 
unknown ; to vanquish an opponent by being in the 
wrong, and sometimes too by being in the right, but 
without the slightest regard either to the right or wrong, 
and merely as these accidental circumstances may have 
corresponded with certain skilful uses of terms without 
a meaning, — this merit the logicians of the schools un- 
questionably might claim. 

One of the most hurtful consequences of this system, 
was the ready disguise of venerable ratiocinatiim which 
it afforded for any absurdity. However futile an ex- 
planation might be, it was still possible to advance it in 
all the customary solemnities of mood and figure ; and 
it was very natural, therefore, for those who had heard 
what they had been accustomed to regard as reasoning, 
to believe that in hearing a reasoning they had heard a 
reason. 

As another very hurtful consequence of this technical 
system, I may remark that the constant necessity of 
having recourse to some syllogistic form of argument, 
and of using these forms in cases in which the opinions, 
involved in the syllogism, w^ere at least as clear before 
the syllogism as after it, rendered argument and belief, 
by a sort of indissoluble association, almost synonymous 



222 MILLS ON SYLLOGISM. 

terms. If we had still to prove JoJin to be fallible after 
having proved, or at least obtained assent to the propo- 
sition that all men are fallible, it was not easy to dis- 
cover any truth so self-evident as not to stand at least 
equally in need of demonstration. Hence the constant 
tendency in the scholastic ages to prove what did not 
stand in need of proof. Every thing was to be demon- 
strated^ and every thing was demonstrated ; though it 
must be confessed that the only effect of the demonstra- 
tion frequently was to render obscure — at least as ob- 
scure as any thing self-evident could be rendered — 
what, but for the demonstration, could not have ad- 
mitted of the slightest doubt. 

Akin to this tendency o^ proving every thing — even 
self-evident propositions — by some syllogistic fovm^ was 
the tendency which the mind acquired to apply many 
varieties of technical phraseology to the same proposi- 
tion, so as to make many propositions of one, as if every 
repetition of it, in another form of language, were the 
enunciation of another truth. It is impossible to take 
up a volume of any of the old logicians, and to read a 
single page of it, without discovering innumerable ex- 
amples of the influence of which I speak. 



EATIOCINATION OE SYLLOGISM. 

[Prom Mills' Logic] 

[The views of a recent author, Mr, Mills, though not in all respects 
coincident or even consistent with those laid down by Professor 
Barron, are here snttjoined, because they throw much light upon 
the subject of reasoning. The real merits of the syllogism as a fonn 
of reasoning, Mr. Mills seems not to exaggerate, while he offers some 
just strictures upon the views entertained by Whately and others 
who agree with this distinguished author. — JEd.] 

The major premise^ which is always universal, asserts 



223 

that all things which have a certain attribute (or attri- 
butes) have, or have not along with it a certain other 
attribute (or attributes). The minor premise asserts 
that the thing or set of things which are the subject of 
that premise, have the first-mentioned attribute ; and 
the conclusion is, that they have (or that they have 
not) the second. Thus, 

All men are mortal ; 
Socrates is a man ; 
Therefore, Socrates is mortal, 

the subject and predicate of the major premise are con- 
notative terms, denoting objects and connoting attri- 
butes. The assertion in the major premise is, that 
along with one of the two sets of attributes, we always 
find the other ; that the attributes connoted by " man" 
never exist unless conjoined with the attribute called 
mortality. The assertion in the minor premise is, that 
the individual named Socrates possesses the former at- 
tributes ; and it is concluded that he possesses also the 
attribute, mortality. 

Or, if both the premises are general propositions, as 

All men are mortal ; 

All kings are men ; 

Therefore, all kings are mortal^ 

the minor premise asserts that the attributes denoted by 
kingship only exist in conjunction with those signified 
by the word man. The major asserts, as before, that 
the last-mentioned attributes are never found without 
the attribute of mortality. The conclusion is, that 
wherever the attributes of kingship are found, that of 
mortality is found also. 

If the major premise were negative, as "ISTo men 
are gods," it would assert, not that the attributes con- 
noted by " man" never exist without, but that they never 



224: mills' exposition of syllogism. 

exist with those connoted by " god ;" from which, to- 
gether with the minor premise, it is conchided that the 
same incompatibility exists between the attributes con- 
stituting a god and those constituting a king. In a 
similar manner we might analyze any other examjple of 
the syllogism. 

If w^e generalize this process, and look out for the 
jprinciple or lavj involved in every such inference, and 
jpresiipposed in evenj syllogism^ the propositions of 
which are any thing more than merely verbal, we find 
not the unmeaning dictum de omni et nullo^ but a fun- 
damental principle, or rather two principles, strikingly 
resembling the axioms of mathematics. The first^ 
which is the ■jprincijpl^ of affirmative syllogisms^ is, that 
things which coexist ivith the same things^ coexist with 
one another. The second is the jprincijyle of negative 
syllogisms.^ and is to this effect, that a thing lohich co- 
exists with another thing., with lohich other a third 
thing does not coexist., is not coexistent with that third 
thing. These axioms manifestly relate to facts, and not 
to conventions ; and one or other of them is the ground, 
of the legitimacy of every agreement in which facts and. 
not conventions are the matter treated of. 

This exposition of the syllogism may be given in 
another form.^ which will express with more precision 
what is accomplished in every case of the ascertainment 
of a truth by ratiocination. 

An affirmative general joroposition is an assertion of 
a speculative truth., namely, that whoever has a certain 
attribute has a certain other attribute. Under another 
aspect, it enables us when we see or learn that an ob- 
ject possesses one of the two attributes, to infer that it 
possesses the other : thus regarded, every syllogism 
comes within the following general formula : 



225 

Attribute A is a mark of attribute B ; 

A given object has the mark A ; 

Therefore," the given object has the attribute B. 

Eeferrecl to this type, the arguments lately cited as 
specimens of the syllogism, will express themselves in 
the following manner : 

The attributes of man are a mark of the attribute, mortality ; 

Socrates has the attributes of man ; 

Therefore, Socrates has the attribute, mortality. 

And again : 

The attributes of man are a mark of the attribute, mortality ; 
The attributes of a king are the mark of the attributes of man ; 
Therefore, the attributes of a king are a mark of the attribute, mor- 
tahty. 

And lastly : 

The attributes of man are a mark of the ctbsence of the attributes 
of a god ; 

The attributes of a king are a mark of the attributes of man ; 

Therefore, the attributes of a king are a mark of the absence of the 
attributes signified by the word god (or the evidence of the ab- 
sence of those attributes). 



OF THE FUNCTIONS AND LOGICAL VALUE OF THE 
SYLLOGISM. 

[Extracted from Mills' Logic, pp. 122-137.] 

We have now to inquire vjhether the syllogistic pro- 
cess^ that of reasoning from generals to particulars, is^ 
or is not^ a process of inference j a progress from the 
hnown to the unknown ; a means of comino- to a 
knowledge of something which we did not know be- 
fore. 

Logicians nniversally allow that a syhogism is vicious 
if there be any thing more in the conclusion than was 
assumed in the premises. But this is, in fact, to say 



226 LOGICAL YALTJE OF THE SYLLOGISM. 

tL at nothing ever was, or can be, proved by syllogism, 
which was not known, or assumed to be known, before. 
Is ratiocination, then, not a process of inference ? And 
is the syllogism, to which the word reasoning has so 
often been represented to be exclusively appropriate, 
not really entitled to be called reasoning at all? This 
seems an inevitable consequence of the doctrine, admit- 
ted by all writers on the subject, that a syllogism can 
prove no more than is involved in the premises. Yet 
the acknowledgment so explicitly made, has not -pre- 
vented one set of writers from continuing to represent 
the syllogism as the correct analysis of what the mind 
actually performs in discovering and proving the larger 
half of the truths, whether of science or of daily life, 
which we believe : while those who have avoided this 
inconsistency, and followed out the general theorem 
respecting the logical value of the syllogism to its legiti- 
mate corollary, have been led to impute nselessness 
and frivolity to the syllogistic theoiy itself, on the 
ground of tliQ petitio princi^?ii which they allege to be 
inherent in every syllogism. As I believe both of these 
opinions to be fundamentally erroneous, I must request 
attention to certain considerations, without which any 
just appreciation of the true character of the syllogism, 
and the functions it performs in philosophy, appears to 
me impossible; but which seem to have been either 
overlooked, or insufficiently adverted to, both by the 
defenders of the syllogistic theory and by its assail- 
ants. • 

It must be granted that in every syllogism^ consider- 
ed as an argument to prove the conclusion^ there is a 
petitio principii. When we say, 

All men are mortal ; 
Socrates is a man ; 
Therefore, Socrates is mortal ; 



LOGICAL VALUE OF THE SYLLOGISM. 227 

it is unanswerably urged by tlie adversaries of tlie syl- 
logistic theory, that the proposition, " Socrates is mor- 
tal," is presupposed in the more general assumption, 
" All men are mortal :" that we cannot be assured of 
the mortality of all men, unless we were previously 
certain of the mortality of every individual man : that 
if it be still doubtful whether Socrates, or any other 
individual you choose to name, be mortal or not, the 
same degree of uncertainty must hang over the asser- 
tion, " All men are mortal :" that the general principle, 
instead of being given as evidence of the particular 
case, cannot itself be taken for true, without exception, 
until every shadow of doubt which could affect any 
case comprised with it, is dispelled by evidence from 
some other quarter; and then what remains for the 
syllogism to prove ? that, in short, no reasoning from 
generals to particulars can, as such, prove any thing ; 
since from a general principle you cannot infer any 
particulars but those which the principle itself assumes 
as foreknown. 

This doctrine is irrefragable ; and if logicians, though 
unable to dispute it, have usually exhibited a strong dis- 
position to explain it away, this was not because they 
could discover any flaw in the argument itself, but be- 
cause the contrary opinion seemed to rest upon argu- 
ments equally indisputable. In the syllogism last re- 
ferred to, for example, or in any of those which we 
previously constructed, is it not evident that the con- 
clusion may, to the person to whom the syllogism is 
presented, be actually and honafide a new truth ? Is it 
not matter of daily experience that truths previously 
undreamed of, facts which have not been, and cannot 
be, directly observed, are arrived at by way of general 
reasoning ? 

We believe that the Duke of W. is mortal. We do 



228 SYLLOGISM NOT A PROCESS OF INFERENCE. 

not know this by direct observation, since he is not yet 
dead. If we were asked how, this being the case, we 
know the Duke to be mortal, we should probably an- 
swer. Because all men are so. Here, therefore, we ar- 
rive at the knowledge of a truth not (as yet) suscepti- 
ble of observation, by a reasoning which admits of be- 
ing exhibited in the following syllogism : 

All men are mortal ; 

The Dnke of TV. is a man ; 

Therefore, the Duke of W. is mortal. 

And since a large jDortion of our knowledge is thus ac- 
quired, logicians have persisted in representing the 
syllogism as a process of inference or proof; although 
none of them have cleared up the difficulty which 
arises from the inconsistency between that assertion 
and the principle, that if there be any thing in the con- 
clusion which was not already asserted in the premises, 
the argument is vicious. For it is impossible to attach 
any serious scientific value to such a mere salvo, as the 
distinction drawn (by Whately and others) between be- 
ing involved hy implication in the premises, and being 
directly asserted in them. 

From this difficulty there appears to be but one 
issue. The proposition that the Duke of W. is mortal, 
is evidently an inference ; it is got at as ■ a conclusion 
from something else ; but do we in reality conclude it 
from the proposition, "All men are mortal?" I an- 
swer, JSTo. 

The error committed, is that of overloohing the dis- 
tinction between the two parts of the process of philoso- 
phizing, the inferring part and the registering part ; 
and ascribing to the latter the functions of the former. 

Assuming that the proposition, " The Duke of W. is 
mortal," is immediately an inference from the proposi- 
tion, " All men are mortal," whence do we derive our 



GENERALIZATION. 229 

knowledge of that general truth ? l^o supernatural aid 
being supposed, the answer must be, by observation. 
;N'ow all which man can observe are individual cases. 
From these all general truths must be drawn, and into 
these they may again be resolved ; for a general truth 
is but an aggregate of particular truths ; a comprehen- 
sive expression, by which an indefinite number of indi- 
vidual facts are affirmed or denied at once. 

But a general proposition is not merely a compen- 
dious form for recording and preserving in the memory 
a number of particular facts, all of which have been 
observed. Generalization is not a process of mere 
reasoning / it is also a process of inference. From in- 
stances which we have observed, we feel warranted in 
concluding, that what we found true in those instances, 
holds in all similar ones, past, present, and future, how- 
ever numerous they may be. We then, by that valua- 
ble contrivance of language which enables us to speak 
of many as if they were one, record all that we have 
observed, together with all that we infer from our ob- 
servations, in one concise expression ; and have thus 
only one proposition, instead of an endless number, to 
remember or to communicate. The results of many 
observations and inferences, and instructions for mak- 
ing innumerable inferences in unforeseen cases, are com- 
pressed into one short sentence. 

When, therefore, we conclude from the death of 
John and Thomas, and every other person we ever 
beard of in whose case the experiment had been fairly 
tried, that the Duke of W. is mortal like the rest, we 
may indeed pass through the generalization, " AH men 
are mortal," as an intermediate stage ; but it is not in 
the latter half of the process, the descent from " all 
men" to the Duke of W. that the inference resides. 
The inference is finished wben we have asserted that all 



230 REASONING FEOM PARTICULAKS TO GENERALS. 

men are mortal. What remains to be performed after- 
wards is merely deciphering om* own notes. 

Archbishop Whately has contended that syllogism, 
or reasoning from generals to particulars, is not, agree- 
ably to the vulgar idea, a particular mode of reasoning, 
but the philosophical analysis of the mode in which all 
men reason, and must do so if they reason at all. With 
the deference due to so high an authority, I cannot help . 
thinking that the vulgar notion is, in the present case, 
the more correct. If, from an experience of John, 
Thomas, &c., who once were living, but are now dead, 
we are entitled to conclude that all human beings are 
mortal, we might surely, without any logical inconse- 
quence, have concluded at once from those instances 
that the Duke of W. is mortal. The mortality of John, 
Thomas, and company is, after all, the whole evidence 
we have for the mortality of the Duke of W. Not one 
iota is added to the proof of interpolating a general 
proposition. Since the individual cases are all the evi- 
dence we can possess, evidence which no logical form 
into which we choose to throw it can make greater than 
it is ; and since that evidence is either sufficient in it- 
self, or, if insufficient for one purpose, cannot be sufficient 
for the other ; I am unable to see why we should be 
forbidden to take the shortest cut from these sufficient 
premises to the conclusion, and constrained to travel 
the " high priori road" by the arbitrary fiat of logi- 
cians. 

Not only may we reason from particulars to gen- 
erals, but we perpetually do so reason. All our earliest 
inferences are of this nature. From the first dawn of 
intelligence we draw inferences, but years elapse before 
we learn the use of general language. The child who, 
having burned his fingers, avoids to thrust them again 
into tlie fire, ha^ reasoned or inferred, though be has 



nSTEEENCE, FEOM PAKTICULARS TO PARTICULAKS. 231 

never thought of the general maxim, "Fij-e biirni^." 
He knows from memory that he has been burnt, and 
on this evidence believes, when he sees a candle, that 
if he puts his finger into the flame of it he will be 
burnt again. He believes this in every case which 
happens to arise, but without looking, in each instance, 
beyond the present case. He is not generalizing; he 
is inferring a particular from particulars. 

I believe that, in point of fact, when drawing infer- 
ences from our personal experience, and not from max- 
ims handed down to us by books or tradition, we much 
oftener conclude from particulars to particulars direct- 
ly, than through the intermediate agency of any gen- 
eral proposition. We are constantly reasoning from 
ourselves to other people, or from one person to an- 
other, without giving ourselves the trouble to erect our 
observations into general maxims of human or external 
nature. When w^e conclude that some person will, on 
some given occasion, feel or act so and so, we some- 
times judge from an enlarged consideration of the man- 
ner in which men in general, or men of some particu- 
lar character, are accustomed to feel and act ; but 
much oftener from having known the feelings and 
conduct of the same man in some previous instance, 
or from considering how w^e should feel or act our- 
selves. 

From the considerations now adduced, the following 
conclusions seem to be established. All inference is 
from particulars to particulars. General propositions 
are merely registers of such inferences already made^ 
and sJiort formulce for making more. The major 
premise of a syllogism, consequently, is a formula of 
this description : and the conclusion is not an inference 
drawn yr<3w^ the formula, but an inference drawn accord- 
ing to the formula : the real logical antecedent, or 



232 WHEN THE GENERALITIES ARE GIVEN. 

premises, being the particular facts from which the 
general proposition was collected by indnction. 

This view of the functions of the syllogism is con- 
firmed by the consideration of precisely those cases 
which might be expected to be least favorable to it, 
namely, those in which ratiocination is independent of 
any previous induction. "We have already observed 
that the syllogism, in the ordinary course of our reason- 
ing, is only the latter half of the process of travelling 
from premises to a conclusion. There are, however, 
some peculiar cases in which it is the whole process. 
Particulars alone are capable of being subjected to ob- 
servation, and all knowledge which is derived from 
observation, begins therefore, of necessity, in particu- 
lars ; but OUT Tinowledge 'niay^ in cases of a certain de- 
scrijption^ he conceived as coming to us from other sources 
than observation. It may present itself as CLOvokw^froin 
revelation', and the knowledge, thus supernaturally 
communicated, may he conceived to comprise not only 
jp articular facts ^ hut general proj)Ositions^ such as occur 
so abundantly in the writings of Solomon and in the 
apostolic epistles. Or the generalization may nothe^ 
in the ordinary sense, an assertion at all^ hut a com- 
mo.nd : a law, not in the philosophical, but in the moral 
and political sense of the term : an expression of the 
desire of a superior, that we, or any number of other 
persons, shall conform our conduct to certain general 
instructions. 

In hoth these cases the generalities are given to us,, 
and the jparticulars are elicited from- them hy a process 
which correctly resolves itself into a series of syllogisms. 
The real nature, however, of the supposed deductive 
process, is evident enough. It is a search for truth, 
no doubt, but through the medium of an inquiry into 
the meaning of a form of words. The only point to he 



PKOCESS OF INTEEPEETATION. 233 

determined is, whether the authority which declared the 
general proposition^ intended to include this case in it j 
and whether the legislator intended his command to 
apply to the present case among others^ or not. This is 
a question, as the Germans express it, of hermeneutics ; 
it relates to the meaning of a. certain form of discourse. 
The operation is not a process of inference^ hut of in- 
terpretation. 

In this last phrase we have obtained an expression 
which appears to me to characterize, more aptly than 
any other, the functions of the syllogism, in cdl cases. 
When the premises are given hy authority^ the function 
of reasoning is to ascertain the testimony of a vjitness.^ 
or the will of a legislator., hy interpreting the signs in 
which the one has intimated his assertion^ and the other 
his command. 

In like manner, when the premises are derived from 
ohservation^ the function of reasoning is to ascertain 
what we (or our predecessors) formerly thought might 
be inferred from the observed facts, and to do this by 
interpreting a memorandum of ours or of theirs. The 
memorandum reminds us, that from evidence more or 
less carefully weighed, it formerly appeared that a cer- 
tain attribute might be inferred wherever we perceive 
a certain mark. The proposition, " All men are mor- 
tal" (for instance), shows that we have had exjDerience 
from which we thought it followed that the attributes 
ctnnoted by the term "man," are a mark of mortality. 
But when we conclude that the Duke of W. is mortal, 
we do not infer this from the memorandum, but from 
the former experience. All that we infer from the 
memorandum is our own previous belief (or that of 
those who transmitted to us the proposition) concerning 
the inferences which that former experience would 
warrant. 



234: ONE USE OF THE SYLLOGISTIC FORM. 

In the above observations it has, I think, been clearly 
shovv'n, that, although there is always a process of rea- 
soning or inference where a syllogism is used, the syllo- 
gism is not a correct analysis of that process of reasoning 
or inference ; which is, on the contrary (when not a 
mere inference from testimony), an inference from par- 
ticulars to particulars ; authorized by a previous infer- 
ence from particulars to generals, and substantially the 
same with it; of the nature, therefore, of induction. 
But while these conclusions appear to me undeniable, I 
must yet enter a protest, as strong as that of Archbishop 
Whately himself, against the doctrine that the syllogis- 
tic ai*t is useless for the purposes of reasoning. The 
reasoning lies in the act of generalization, not in inter- 
preting the record of that act ; but the syllogistic form, 
is cm indisjpeMsMe collateral security for the correctness 
of the generalization itself. 

It has already been seen, that if we have a collection, 
of particulars sufficient for grounding an induction, we 
need not frame a general proposition : we may reason 
at once from those particulars to other particulars. 
But it is to be remarked withal, that whenever.^ from a 
set of particular cases, we can legitimately draw any 
inference.^ we may legitimately malte our inference a 
general one. If, from observation and experiment, we 
can conclude to one new case, so we may to an indefi- 
nite number. If that which has held true in our past 
experience will therefore hold in time to come, it will 
hold not merely in some individual case, but in all 
cases of a given description. Every induction, there- 
fore, which sufiices to prove one fact, proves an indefi- 
nite multitude of facts ; the experience w^hich justilies 
a single prediction, must be such as will suffice to bear 
out a general theorem. 

This throwing of the whole hody of possible infer- 



SEOUEITT FOK JUST INFERENCES. 235 

ences from a given set of particulars into one general 
expression, oijerates as a security for their helng just 
inferences in more ways than one. First^ a process of 
thought which leads to a comprehensive generality is 
felt to be of greater importance than one which termi- 
nates npon an insnlated fact, and the mind is, there- 
fore, led to weigh more carefully the sufficiency of the 
experience appealed to, for supporting the inference 
grounded npon it. Secondly^ if, instead of concluding 
straight to the particular case, we place before our- 
selves an entire class of facts, the whole contents of a 
general proposition, every tittle of which is legitimate- 
ly inferrible from our premises, if that one particular 
conclusion is so ; there is then a considerable likeli- 
hood that if the premises are insufficient, and the gen- 
eral inference therefore groundless, it will comprise 
within it some fact or facts the reverse of which we 
already know to be true ; and we shall tlius discover 
the error in our generalization^ by what the schoolmen 
term a reductio ad. ijnpossibile. 

Thus, if during the r-eign of Marcus Aurelius, a sub- 
ject of the Roman empire, under the bias naturally 
given to the imagination and expectations by the lives 
and characters of the Antonines, had been disposed to 
conclude that Commodus would be a just ruler ; sup- 
posing him to stop there, he might only have been de- 
ceived by sad experience. But if he reflected that 
this conclusion could not be justifiable unless from the 
same evidence, he was also warranted in concluding 
some general proposition, as, for instance, that all Ro- 
man emperors are just rulers : he would immediately 
have thought of Nero, Domitian, and other instances, 
which, showing the falsity of the general conclusion, 
and therefore the insufficiency of the premises, would 
have warned him that those premises could not prove, 



236 PARALLEL AND ANALOGOUS CASES. 

in the instance of Commodus, what they were inade- 
quate to prove in any collection of cases in which his 
was inclnded. 

The advantage, in judging whether any controverted 
inference is legitimate, of referring to a ^^ar«ZZ^Z case^ 
is universally acknowledged : but, by ascending to the 
general ^proposition, we bring under our view not one 
parallel case only, but all possible parallel cases at 
once ; all cases to which the same set of evidentiary 
coDsiderations are applicable. 

When, therefore, we argue from a number of known 
cases to another case supposed to be analogous^ it is 
always possible, and generally advantageous, to divert 
our argument into the circuitous channel of an induc- 
tion from those known cases to a general proposition, 
and a subsequent ajpjplicatioTi of the general jpro])Osition 
to the unknown case. 

The value, therefore, of the syllogistic form, and of 
the rules for using it correctly, does not consist in 
their being the form and the rules according to which 
our reasonings are necessarily or even usually made ; 
but in their furnishing us with a mode in which those 
reasonings may always be represented, and which is 
admirably calculated, if they are inconclusive, to bring 
their inconclusiveness to light. An induction from 
particulars to generals, followed by a syllogistic pro- 
cess from those generals to other particulars, is a form 
in which vvc may always state our reasonings, if we 
please. It is not a form in which we viust reason, but 
it is a form in which we onay reason, and into which it 
is indispensable to throw our reasoning, when there is 
any doubt of its validity ; though, when the case is fa- 
miliar, and little complicated, and there is no suspicion 
of error, we may, and do, reason at once from the 
known particular cases to unknown ones. 



INDUCTION AND DEDUCTION. 237 

These are tlie uses of the syllogism, as a mode of 
verifying any given aTgument. Its ulterior uses, as re- 
spects the general course of our intellectual operations, 
hardlj require illustration, being, in fact, the acknowl- 
edged uses of general language. They amount sub- 
stantially to this, that the inductions may be made once 
for all ; a single careful interrogation of experience 
may suffice, and the result may be registered in the 
form of a general proposition which is committed to 
memory or to writing, and from which afterwards we 
have only to syllogize. Though not necessary to rea- 
soning, general j^rojpositions are necessary to any con- 
siderable progress in reasoning. It is therefore natural 
and indispensable to separate the process .of investiga- 
tion into two parts, and obtain general formulae for de- 
termining w^hat inferences may be drawn, before the 
occasion arises for drawing the inferences. The work 
of drawing them is then that of applying the formulge ; 
and the rules of the syllogism are a system of securi- 
ties for the correctness of the application. 

Although, therefore, all processes of thought in which 
the ultimate premises are particulars, whether we con- 
clude from particulars to a general formula, or from 
particulars to other j)articulars according to that for- 
mula, are equally induction ; yet this name more pe-' 
culiarly belongs to the ]3rocess of establishing the gen- 
eral proposition, and the remaining operation, which is 
"substantially that of interpreting the general proposi- 
tion, usually bears the name of deduction. Ev^ery pro- 
cess by which any thing is inferred respecting an unob- 
served case, consists of an induction followed by a de- 
duction ; and although the process need not necessarily 
be carried on in this form, yet it is always susceptible 
of the form, and must be thrown into it when assurance 
of scientific accuracy is needed and desired. 



238 THE SOCKATIC METHOD OF KEASONING. 



IHE SOCRATIC METHOD OF EEASONING. 

[We subjoin, as worthy of a place in a work on logic, tlie fol- 
lowing account (from a London publication) of the method of rea- 
soning practised by the great Athenian 'sage. For additional illus- 
trations or examples of this most effective and lucid method of 
reasoning, the reader may refer to " Xenophon's Memorabilia of 
Socrates."] 

This method of disputation derives its name from 
Socrates, by whom it was practised, and by other phi- 
losophers in his time, long before Aristotle invented the 
forms of syllogism in mode and figm-e, formerly used 
in scholastic disputation. 

A dispute in the Socratic manner is carried on hy 
way of question and answer^ representing the form of 
a dialogue or common conversation, wherein the per- 
son who instructs seems to be the inquirer, and seeks 
information from him who is instructed. 

If the person with whom we argue makes use of ob- 
scure or ambiguous words, w^e must ask him to explain 
his meaniug; for it often happens that men have ac- 
customed themselves to some words or phrases which 
they do not perfectly understand ; and then by a few 
modest questions they w^ill much better discern their 
ignorance than by a direct opposition, w^hich often 
raises the passions and shuts the door against convic- 
tion. When we have gone thus far, if the person be a 
sincere lover of truth, he will presently acknowledge 
that he did not sufficiently understand the matter, and 
then the dispute is at an end. But if he is obstinate, 
and will obtrude his w^ords upon us without defining 
them, we ought to proceed no further till he has satis- 
fied us what he means. We must press him with little 
questions, as if we were dull of apprehension and would 



THE SOCKATIC METHOD OF REASONING. 239 

be glad to understand him better. Bnt if we can by 
no means prevail with him to speak plainly, it is time 
to pnt an end to the dispnte, since it is evident he 
knows not what he would be at, or has a mind only to 
wrangle. 

If at last we bring him to declare his meaning clear- 
ly, we then proceed to ask him questions upon the sev- 
eral parts of the doctrine he advances and their conse- 
quences, not as objecting against them, but for the sake 
of better information. From these questions, if pro- 
posed with dexterity, it will easily appear whether the 
doctrine be absurd or not ; and to make the matter still 
clearer, it will be proper to use examples and simili- 
tudes. Bnt if this be not sufficient to show the falsity 
of the opinion, we mnst inquire of the person on what 
arguments or proofs he grounds it, and then pursue the 
same conduct as we did in the fii*st part of the dispute. 
Thus the learner will be led into the knowledge of 
truth as it were by his own invention, and being drawn 
by a series of pertinent questions to discern his own 
mistakes, he will more easily be induced to relinquish 
them, as he seems to have discovered them himself. 

AN EXAMPLE OF THIS METHOD OF DISPUTATION. 

Suppose M. would lead N". into the belief of a future 
state of rewards and punishments, it might be done in 
the following easy manner of reasoning. 

M. Did God make the world ? 

JSf. Certainly he did. 

M. Does God govern the world ? 

W. As he made it, 'tis reasonable to suppose he gov- 
erns it. 

M. Is not God a good and rigliteous governor ? " 

N. Doubtless he is. 



240 THE SOCKATIO METHOD OF EEASONING. 

M. What is the true idea of a good and righteous 
governor ? 

N. That he jounislies the wicked^ and rewards the 
good. 

M. But are the wicked always j)nnished in this life ? 

N. No, every one's observation tells him the con- 
trary ; for the worst of men are often advanced to rich- 
es and honor, and have all the external comforts that 
the world affords. 

M. Are the good always rewarded in this life ? 

N. ISTo, certainly ; for poverty, persecution, and va- 
rious kinds of affliction, are often the ' lot of the most 
virtuous men. 

M. How then does it appear that God is good and 
righteous ? 

iV. I confess there is but little appearance of it in the 
present state of things. 

M. Will there not be a time when the scene of 
things will be changed, and God will make his good- 
ness and righteousness in the government of mankind 
appear ? 

JSf. Undoubtedly such a time will come. 

M. But if this be not done before death, how can it 
be done at all ? 

N. In no other way that I can think of, but by sup- 
posing man to have some existence after this life. 

M. Then you are convinced that there must be a 
state of rewards and punishments beyond the grave ? 

N. Yes, I am thoroughly persuaded of it ; since the 
goodness and righteousness of God, as governor of the 
world, cannot be made to appear without it. 

This method of reasoning, though it has been long 
neglected, is certainly a natural and pleasing manner of 
instruction, and is much more agreeable to that candor 
and sincerity which every honest man ought to propose, 



AERANGEMENT 0¥ A SCIENCE. 241 

than the art of wrangling which for several ages pre- 
vailed in the schools, and tended to overspread the 
minds of youth with darkness and uncertainty, and to 
retard or mislead them in their inc|uirie3 after truth. 



AEEANGEMENT OF A SCIENCE. 
[From Thomson''s Laws of Thought.] 

Subordinate Parts of a Science. 

Judgments that relate to speculation only, are called 
theoretical ; those which refer to practice are practical. 
Judgments that require or admit of proof, are called 
demonstrable ; those which are manifest from the very 
terms, are indemonstrable. Thus much being premised, 
we can define certain subordinate parts of a science. 

An Axiom is an indemonstrable, theoretical judgment. A Pos- 
tulate is an indemonstrable, theoretical judgment. A Theorem is a 
demonstrable, theoretical judgment. A ProoJevi is a demonstra- 
ble, practical judgment. A Thesis is a judgment proposed for dis- 
cussion and proof (but with Aristotle it sometimes means an axiom 
of some special science or disputation). An Hypothesis is a judg- 
ment provisionally accepted as an explanation of some group of 
facts, and is liable to be discarded if it is found inconsistent with 
them. A judgment which follows immediately from another, is 
sometimes called a Corollary or Consectary. One which does not 
properly belong to the science in which it appears, but is taken 
from another, is called a Lemma. One which illustrates the science 
where it appears, but is not an integral part of it, is a SchoUon. 

A DlA^ISION OF THE SciENCES. 

A division of the sciences tends to separate different 
districts of knowledge, with the concej)tions that belong 
to them, from one another. It is desirable to attempt 
such a division, as the conclusion of a treatise on Logic ; 
if for no other reason, in order that we may know to 
how many subjects we may have to direct our rules. 

11 



242 



A DIVISION OF THE SCIENCES. 



A science is a systematic arrangement of all the laws 
wliich belong to any one subject. The three great fields 
of human research are, — the Divine Nature, the nature 
of the human mind, and the nature of the universe ; 
and corres]3onding to them are three principal groups 
of sciences — the Theological, the Psychological, and the 
Cosmical or ISTatural. 



Theological Sciences. 



Theology. 



Mental 

Sciences. 



Mathemat- 
ical 

Sciences. 



Physical 

Sciences. 



Natueal 

soienoks. 



Biblical. 

Systematical. 

Historical. 



j Biblical Criticism. 
1 Exposition — Exegesis. 
3 Dogmatic Theology. 
I Pastoral Theology. 
i Church History. 
( History of Doctrines. 



Mental Sciences. 



Eeason. 



Choice and Af- 
fection, 



Logic, or the Science of the forma 
of Thought. 

Metaphysic, vv^hich examines the 
ground of all knowledge of 
things. 
' Morahty, founded on the concep- 
tion of Eight. 

Esthetic, founded on the concep- 
tion of Beauty. 



Cosmical Sciences. 



Pure Mathemat- 
ics. 

Physico Mathe- 
matics. 

Physics proper. 

Geology. 

Phytological. 

Zoological. 



( Arithmetic. 

\ Geometry. 

( Mechanics. 

I Astronomy. 

C General Physics. 

< Technology, or Physics applied 

( to Arts and Manufactures. 

S Descriptive Geology. 

( Mining, or " Oryctotechny." 

5 Botany. 
I Agriculture. 

S Zoology proper. 
Zootechny, knowledge of the use 
of animals to man. 



A DIVISION OF THE SCIENCES. 



243 



Medical 
Sciences. 



Political 
Sciences. 



Pal^olo- 

GIOAL 

Science. 



Physico Medical. 

Medical Science 
proper. 



Government. 



Of the Earth. 



Of the Human 
Race. 



( Medical Physics. 

] Hygiene. 

j Pathology. 

( Practical Medicine. 

( Political Economy. 

^ History of Laws and Constitu- 

( tions. 

I Administration of Law. 

I Police and Defence. 

C Historical Geology. 

< Distribution of Plants and Ani- 

( mals. 

r Glossology, or Science of affinity 

J of Languages. 

1 Ethnography, or Science of affin- 

(_ ity of Races. 



THE END. 



THE ENGLISH POETS WITH CRITICAL NOTES. 



NEW EDITIOKS OF 

MILTON'S PARADISE LOST, YOUNG'S NIGHT THOUGHTS, AND 

THOMSON'S SEASONS, 

•WITH 

ILLUSTRATIVE AND CRITICAL l^OTES 

BY PROF. JAMES ROBERT BOTB. 

The publishers beg leave to commend these annotated edi- 
tions of Milton, Young, and Thomson, to the particular consid- 
eration of Instructors, and of all who are concerned in selecting 
books for District School and other Libraries, as valuable text 
books for schools, and deserving of a place in every library, pub- 
lic and private. They cannot better express their own views of 
the peculiar excellencies of these editions, than by copying a 
portion of the introductory observations of the editor, prefixed 
to Thomson's Seasons. 

" In this age, when the press is covering our land with a friv- 
olous and pernicious literature, there is great danger that the 
rising generation will too much neglect, if not entirely lose 
sight of those noble and solid productions of the British Muse 
which have been familiar to their predecessors— the poems of 
Milton and Young, of Thomson and Cowper. These are 
worthy not of a hasty perusal only, but of frequent and pro- 
found study — especially by the young — for the varied informa- 
tion which they contain ; for the learning and taste, and high 
order of genius which they display, and /or the eminent service 
which, they are adapted to afford in the prQper culture of tht 
mind and of the heart 

1 



The English Poets with critical notes. 

" The study of such authors, if so far pursued as to secure a fair 
appreciation of their style and sentiments, and scientific infor- 
mation, cannot fail to raise the mind above the danger of con- 
taminating and degrading itself with the greatly inferior and 
worthless productions so common at the present day. But 
such an acquaintance with those authors cannot, except in rare 
instances, be looked for, without the aid of suitable commen- 
taries that shall clear up obscure passages, call attention to 
what is beautiful or faulty in style or sentiment, and in short, 
give to the immature and uncultivated mind the aid and the 
incitement which it needs, to enter into the spirit and feel the 
force of these productions. 

" In our academies and colleges the poets of Greece and Rome 
are critically studied ; many years of toil are bestowed upon 
them ; but it is painful to consider how little attention, on the 
other hand, is devoted to the Enghsh poets, though some of 
them are not less deserving than the former of study and 
admiration. It was the earnest desire and hope of leading 
teachers to give to the best English poets tlie same high place 
in a course of education, and the same attention which is given 
to the Roman and Grecian, that induced the editor to prepare 
a critical commentary on the Paradise Lost, and on Young's 
Night Thoughts, and now upon Thomson's Seasons ; and it 
is his firm conviction that, at no distant day, a thorough and 
critical study of such works as these will be deinanded in all 
seminaries above the grade of the primary schools. It is true 
that even in these, the poems alluded to are used extensively; 
but, in almost ail instances, it is for no higher purpose thap 
grammatical parsing. This, indeed, has its benefits ; but then* 
are much higher purposes to be attained in the proper study o 
these authors, which, it is hoped, may be secured by the diligen/ 
study of them in connection with the commentaries now pre 
sented. They may be used as among the best means of at 

3 



A. S. BARNES <b COMPANy's PUBLICATIONS. 
Milton' s P ar adise Lost, with Boyd's Note*. 

tainiDg a full acquaintance with our noble language — enlarged 
views of principles and philosophy of rhetoric, improved hte- 
rary taste, a more vigorous fancy, and a more chastened ima- 
gination, clearer perceptions of truth and sounder judgments, 
besides a higher tone of moral and social character." 

Not only in the school-room, in the family circle also — the 
productions of these distinguished authors, explained and illus- 
rated^ are much needed. Every family library , and every 
district school library should contain a commentary upon Mil- 
ton, and Young, and Thomson, adapted to the wants of the 
mass of readers. To these some of the principal poems of 
Cowper should be added; and the Publishers hope in the 
course of a few months to get out an annotated edition on the 
same plan as the above ; in the preparation cf this, the same 
editor being now engaged. 

S 



A, S. BARNES <fe COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS. 
Milton' s Paradise Lost, with Boyd't J^ot4» 

MILTON'S PARADISE LOST. 

WITH CRITICAL NOTES, BY REV. J. R. BOYD. 

" The editor we have known by former literary labors, and 
ill his notes to this poem (the Paradise Lost) he displays ex- 
tensive research and varied learning, the results of which serve 
often to ren er obscure allusions intelligible." — Philadelphia 
Presbyterian. 



" The copious notes certainly throw much light upon the text, 
and will render the work itself, to most readers, quite another 
thins: than what it would be without them." — N. Y. Observer. 



" Professor Boyd has shown great diligence and learning in 
his notes and often a delicate appreciation of the beauties of 
Milton. The work will be found very useful for school^, ay 
well as pleasant and instructive for general perusal." — N. Y 

Evangelist. 



*' Professor Boyd has evidently elaborated the notes wit} 
great care, and many a reader will thank him for having ren 
dered intelligible and exquisitely beautiful, what before scarcely 
aeemtd to have any meaning." — Albany Argus. 

*' In the edition now presented to the American public, Pro- 
fessor Boyd has incorporated the m.ost valuable of Addison's 
criticisms, in the form of notes to the original text ; so that 
the reader has but to drop his eye to the bottom of the page 
to discern beauties in the poet which are apt to escape any but 
learned and highly imaginative readers. In this particular, 
Mr. Boyd's has an advantage over any other edition of Para- 
dise Lost we have ever seen. It contains, besi 'es, many 
useful notes from the pen of the editor and selections from the 
valuable annotations of Bridges, Newton, Todd, and others, 
and is illustrated with steel engravings after Martin's designs."— 
N. Y. Evening Post. 



"Professor Boyd has prepared this edition with copious 
notes and introductory remarks to each Book, by which every 
thing obscure is explained, while the various beauties of thought 
and style are happily pointed out "— Hartford Herald. 

4 



A. S. BARNES <fe COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS. 
Milton's Paradise Lost, with Boyd's NoteT^ 



"The text is accompanied by critical and explanatory notes 
from the most celebrated annotators, and the edi:ion will thus 
be found more instructive ihan any issued hitherto " — N. Y, 
Courier and Enquirer. 



"Such, a book as this has long been a desideratum in Htera- 
ture. It provides a remedy for the too great neglect (^'i the 
finest poetical composition in our language, by enaMinu^ the 
unlearned reader to understand and apj)reciate it. Not only 
are the classical and learn d allusions clearly explained, and 
obscure passages elucidated, but attention is directed to the parts 
most deservin : of admiration, and the grounds on whi h they 
should be admired." — Home Journal. 



"We consider it the best edition of Milton yet issued, and 
anticipate from its publication a more general re tding and study 
of the Great Poet, than for some time he has received." — N. 
Y. CommerciaL 

From Prof. James D. Butler, of Norwich University. 

Such a work as this has lono- been a desideratum. It 
Btrikes between wind and water — between the sixpenny mis- 
printed editions that spoil our eyes, and the ponderous tomes 
that exhaust our purses and our hands. It is suited t:> the 
times. Who now reads Newton's three quartos, or Todd's 
seven octavos, or even the six duodecimos of Bridges ? For all 
practic d purposes, Boyd's single volume is worth more th n 
Newton, Todd, and Bridges — not merely because it contains 
the cream of their colleciions, while pure from their learned 
lumber, but because it is studded with gem=i culled from sub- 
sequent critics of hiohest merit, as Gilfillan, Hazlit, Channing, 
Macaulay, Everet, Blackwood's Magazine, e^c. Thus it is a 
maximum of matter in a minimum of 'julk — the knowledge of 
many so stored as to be accessible by every one — " a nest where 
sweets compacted He." Ii not only verities thead-ge, "Bre- 
vity is beauty," but so tasieful is its eclecticism, and so suited \l 
it to the actual wants of most readers, that it may aid, as 
much as the critique of Addison did, n making Milton no more 
like most original authors, much talked of, but little read. 

5 



M iJ ton'' s Paradise Lost, with Boyd's Notet. 

I speak from experience, for before this edition appeared 1 
had finned a club for the study of Paradise Lost on the fol- 
lowing plan : The club met weekly. Questions were first 
asked regardinQr every hard word and construction in about 
half a book. Written essays were then read on topics previously 
assigned to different individuals, as on the diction, biblical, 
clas^ical, geographical allusions, the general plan, the accom- 
modations or novel applications that may be made of Miltonic 
phrases. Most members of the cl ib, being destitute of the 
rare and costly editions, were at first obliged to grope in the 
dai k, or, to make brick without straw. Each of t lem, however, 
proc ired a copy of Boyd on its first publication, and all now 
find it in Milton's words, "Their wish exactly to their heart's 
desire." My club are now with weekly-increasing ardor listen 
ing to Milton's celestial colloquy sublime ; and I am persuaded 
that such a club may be formed by every country minister, and 
would be the most effectual means of inspiring his parishioners 
with a relish for nobler productions than the reviews, novels, 
and works stitched in yellow paper, so much deprecated — and 
Btill so much delinchted in. 



From S. S. Randall, Esq. 

T have to thank you for a copy of Prof. Boyd's Edition oi 
Milton's Paradise Lost, and to express the great satisfaction its 
perusal has afforded me. Such a work was very much needed, 
in. order to render this immortal Epic " familiar as household 
words" to every citizen of our Republic. The combination in 
one volume of the valuable notes, illustrations, and criticisms of 
the various editors and commentators constitutes a very great 
improvement upon any preceding edition : And the task has, 
in ray judgment, been very happily and aoly executed by Prof. 
Boyd. I trust the work may nnd it^ way into the several 
school district libraries of our State, as well as the higher semi- 
naries of learning. The rising generation cannot make them- 
selves too farailliar with the inexhaustible mine of thought, 
and the unsurpassed beauty and sublimity of this great 
Poem. 

6 



A. S. BARNES 6: COMPANY S PL'BLICATIONS. 
Milton' s Paradise Lost, with Boyd's Notei. 

From Prof. Horace Webster, L. L. D. 

It is quite unnecessary for me to express an opinion of the 
inimitable Poem, the Paradise Lost : its excellence is univer- 
sally admitted. 

However, its importanc?. and value as a book to be used in 
common schools and academies are not fully appreciated : it 
ought to be generally introduced into these institutions both for 
a reading and study book, as it contains a great amount of 
critical learning and is almost perfect of its kind. 

Your Edition with notes by the Rev. J. R. Boyd is exceed- 
ingly convenient and valuable for the purpose mentioned above. 



From Prof. Henry Tappan, JD, D. 

I think very highly of Prof. Boyd's School Edition of Milton's 
Parad ss Lost. The size is convenient, the type good, the price 
reasonable, and the notes in the margin are judiciously compil- 
ed from the best authorities. It is unquestionably the best 
edition for the use of schools which has been issued from the 
American Press. 



From Prof. Charles E. West, of Rutger's Institute, New Yorh. 

This beautiful volume is an acquisition to all admirers of 
Milton. Its annotations embody the gist of what Addison, 
Bridges, and others have written on this immortal Poem. 
These are wisely distributed, and form a running commentary 
on the text. 

It is doubtful whether in this age of trashy literature, many 
ever look into the pages of the Spectator or know even that 
Addison devoted his graceful pen to illustrate the " Paradise 
Lost." A perusal of these papers is recommended. They are 
fitted to inspire a love for the old Poet, and to give a freshness 
and zest to his pages.. 

But those who cannot obtain access to the Spectator or the 
learned works of Kitto, Newton, and Bridges, will find the defi- 
ciency made up in the charming edition of Prof. Boyd, whose 
discrimination and good taste are fally exemplified, and entitle 
him to the thanks of American scholars. It is admirably fitted 
for schools, and should be introduced as a text-book into out 



A. 8. BARNES & COMPANY S PUBLICATIONS. 



Milton's Paradise Lost, with Bcyd's Notes. 



higher seminaries. Ic should find a place in every gentle- 
man's hbrary and be made a study ; for it is full of interest and 
will reward the attentive reader. 



From Prof. Edward North, of ITamilton College. 

Mr. Boyd's Edition of Milton's Paradise Lost seems fitted to 
Bubserve several important ends. The notes and verbal criti- 
cisms will tend to bring this difficult work within the comprehen- 
sion of youthful and immature minds. This will make it a suit- 
able book for family hbraries, for academies, and district schools. 

The Editor has introduced those treasures of learned and 
ingenious criticism which the Paradise Lost has called into exis- 
tence, and which have heretofore been scattered throughout 
the length and breadth of English literature. This part of the 
Editor's labor will prove of great value and convenience to 
literary men of every class. 

By the Christian scholars of our country, Mr. Boyd's Mil- 
ton will be heartily welcomed. This great Epic is, in a peculiar 
sense, their property and pride — their love for it is a spiritual 
as well as a literary love, and they will rejoice to see its study 
becoming more general. 



A. S. BARNES & COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS. 
Young^s Night Thoughts, with Boy d^ s Notes. 

YOUNG'S NIGHT THOUGHTS, 

WITH CRITICAL NOTES, BY PROF. J. R. BOYD. 

"This work will b3 found especially valuable to the young 
reader, by reason of the copious notes appended to the text, 
and particidarly the division of the poem into paragraphs, 
headed with the subjects treated in the ensuing portions. This 
new feature adds greatly to the convenience of leference, fur- 
nishing an easy key to the treasures of thought contained in 
the book. It is arranijed on a similar plan with the beau- 
tiful edition of Milton's Paradise Lost. A memoir of the life 
and character of Dr. Young is included with a " Critical 
Estimate," compiled with care from the criticisms of distinguish- 
ed authors." — Home Journal. 



• From Rev. George B. Uheever, D. D. 

The poem will remain one of the sublimest classics in En- 
jo^lish literature as long as the English language remains; 
long as Paradise Lost is read and studied. As long as Shaks- 
peare is perused, so long will Young's Night Thoughts be 
admired by thoughtful and cultivated mind-, and the more, 
just in proportion as the mind becomes thoughtful and culti- 
vated. The most appreciative critics that ever wrote upon 
English poetry have united in their admiration of this grand 
and majestic production, which indeed is like a vast antique 
catljedral. gloomy, and overawing, but exquisitely beautiful in 
some of its windows and chapels, and as a whole most im- 
pressive and sublime. 

The poet Campbell had a high admiration of this sublime 
poem, and wrote some of the best critical remarks upon it. 
Southey observes that, except Pope himself, there was not 
a single English poet whose name was so generally known as 
the author of the Night Thoughts. Mr. Boyd speaks of the 
" wonderful condensation of thought which the poem exhibit?, 
those priceless gems which are scattered through it: those 
aphoristic sentences of compressed wisdom and piety, which 
have been drawn from it and transformed widely into our pop* 
ular literature and conversation. It not only evinces thought 
in the author, but, to understand and appreciate, and digest 
what he has composed, the reader is required to exercise no 
small energy and close application of thought." Now, ihes6 

9 



A. S. BARNES & COMPANY'S PUBLICATIONS. 
Young's Night Thoughts, with Boyd's Note». 

and other like admirable qualities are the very characttristici 
that render this noble poem so excellent a discipline for youth- 
ful minds, and at the same time, they render a commentary, for 
such minds especially, in a high degree necessary and useful. 

Mr. Boyd has performed an important work in accomplishing 
this undertaking, and he has performed it wisely and well. 
It is one of the lasting classics in English literature, of which 
the moral and religious, as well as poetical and intellectual in- 
fluence, is admirable alike f )r young and old ; and the more ii 
is studied the better it ivill be for the world. The editor and 
publisher of this splendid volume have accomplished a work ot 
great value, which we only wonder had not been done at an 
earlier period ; but we rejoice that it is done. 



" We may call this a most useful asd admirably executed 
work, which we cannot but hope will have the effect of bring- 
ing this great poem into more general favor. Its extreme con- 
densation of thought and expression, its learned allusions and 
its peculiar Youngisras, frequently require elucidation, and 
Prof. Boyd has succeeded in supplying it, with remarkable 
good judgment and taste. His preli-rainary estimate embodies 
much of the best criticism ever bestowed on the poem, and 
forms a fine preparative for its intelligent and agreeable peru- 
sal. The memoir is likewise genial, though brief. But the 
notes are full, suggestive and exceedingly valuable, often put- 
ting the reader in possession of new thoughts, and opening 
vistas of beauty and grandeur in the thick wilderness of thoughts 
and tropes, which would be almost unknown without them." — 
Evangelist. 



" Mr. Boyd has already approved himself to the literary pub- 
lic as a truly classical annotator upon the great English poets. 
His edition of Milton's Paradise Lost has met with a very favor- 
able reception. In this edition of the Night Thoughts we ob- 
serve the same critical acumen and taste, and the same poetic 
and moral sympathy that imparted their value to the notes on 
Milton. The " Night Thoughts" is a great moral essay, and 
though the verse does not always flow in harmonious numbers 
or swell with the majestic rhythm of the Paradise Lost, it 
nevertheless abounds in rich poetic imagery, and in sententious^ 

10 



A. S. BARNES <fe COMPANY S PUBLICATIONS. 
Young's Night Thoughts, with Boyd'sNotet. 

epigrammatic utterances that have passed into proverbs. In 
the terse and forcible expression of tbouglit some parts of the 
poem are almost unrivaled, and therefore it has always been a 
Ikvorite text book for the study of grammar and composition. 
For such a use the notes of Mr. Boyd are a valuable addition." — 
Independent. 

" Professor Boyd has executed with patient research and in- 
dustry a ta^k, which, while it may have been pleasant, has not 
been without difficulty, and the appreciating reader will be 
grateful to him for the service rendered by the untiring editor. 
He has given us a superb and most intelligible edition of a 
poem, which is one of the imperishable monuments of English 
Literature. It opens with a succinct biography of the great 
author, in which every intelligent reader will admire the exceed- 
ing candor and impartiality of the writer. Not only is full 
justice done to the great talent and worth of his subjpct, but 
his weakness and vanities are likewise delineated." — Geneva 
Courier. 

" The editor of this beautiful edition has been at great pains 
to contribute to the intelligibleness of the poem, and furnish a 
key to its several portions, by designating in a conspicuous 
manner the principal topics upon which it treats. This arrange- 
ment makes it very convenient for reference to subjects when 
the reader desires to employ but a few mom.ents at a time in 
its perusal. It is in all respects an admirable edition." — Rich- 
mond Republican. 



" Professor Boyd has brought to a focus the light of many 
minds to aid his own in making those obscurities plain. And 
in doing this he deserves well of our reading population, for we 
know that many intelligent minds have occasionally been puz- 
zled to make out some of Dr. Young's thoughts, beinir so far 
beyond the reach of ordinary minds." — Christian Intelligence?'. 



" The lucid and copious notes from the pen of Professor Boyd, 
die biographical sketch of Dr. Young, with the critical notices 
of his writings, greatly enhance the attractiveness and worth of 
the volume." — We-rkh/ Eclectic. 

11 



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